The Revolutionary Invader
by Wordylady87
Summary: Invader Zim and Hamilton in one. Dib and Zim are destined to be enemies, especially when Dib begins climbing the ladder and taking attention away from Zim. The oncoming war is one no one expected, and Dib seems to be the only one willing to open his eyes to the true enemy. Can he stop Zim in time before world domination? Or will Dib go down without a scrap of honor to his name?
1. The Meeting

Hey all! It's been a while since I wrote an Invader Zim fic. And since I literally finished my last final last night, I thought I would celebrate by exercising my fingers in a new fic.

I was watching the Mopiness of Doom someone had animated, and while listening to the Hamilton Soundtrack an idea clicked in me that I needed to write down. The friend/enemy relationship that Zim and Dib share reminded me of the one that Hamilton and Burr possessed, almost. I decided to write my own take on it and I hope you all like it.

Please don't expect this to be verbatim to Hamilton due to the Zim and Dib dynamic. This is set in the Revolutionary Era. Thank you! Please read and review!

* * *

 **Chapter One: The Meeting**

The pub was filled with hearty chuckles and the sounds of glass pint mugs clinking. It didn't matter where you came from. The pub was an open invitation for a man to enjoy himself after a long day with a pretty woman to serve you was an added bonus. Tonight, so happened to be thriving.

Shifting his satchel strap from across his shoulder, a young man stood outside of the pub's outside door, beside him was his younger sister who had decided to venture with him. Inside this drunken cesspool, he would find what or, rather who, he was searching for. This young man sought out freedom and truth, something not many were interested in. No matter what, he had to try. Someday, one day, the people would thank him for all he had done for them. So, he entered.

Initially, the bar quieted when he swung the door open. It was stuffy from the amount of bodies within, which was perfect for the climbing of sales. Many heads turned to face him, this scrappy young man, whose hair curled into a scythe atop. His black jacket was torn, shoes beyond a shine's repair and yet he held his head high. His eyes scanned the room, noticing the patrons slowly turning their heads away from him.

The further inside, he could see the animal heads mounted like trophies over the fire place that was out for the spring and summer seasons. Nails in the wooden columns, the tables needing a new coat of varnish, even the benches had splinters, so he would have to take caution when he sat. A hand motioned away from gripping the satchel so tightly and trailed upwards to stretch his collar, feeling the sweat and heat accumulate around his neck.

 _I'll see what I can find and get out of here,_ he thought to himself, however, was snatched away from his thoughts by a new voice.

"What can we do you for, stranger?" The bars tender leaned forward on the counter and waited for the newcomer to make a purchase. If no purchase was to be made, then he would send the young man back where he came from: on the streets.

"I've come to deliver a message," he began after clearing his throat.

"A messenger boy, then?"

"No, not a messenger boy. Well, maybe, of sorts. I…" he looked around at the patrons. He would need to gain their attention, needing every voice imaginable. But right now was not the time, he realized and shook his head. "Never mind."

"You buyin'?"

The young traveler frowned and reached down into his pocket for his money purse. He didn't come here with much, having arrived in the city today with his younger sister in tow, who had parted from her brother to sit down herself and withdraw a pack of playing cards, shuffling the deck to pass the time. She was never one to pass up a game, and gambling was how she won their fare. As much as her brother held a generic distaste for it, he wasn't complaining when it fed them. These were hard times.

"Two pints," his sister replied in her raspy voice and slammed several coins down on the bar, glancing up at him as part of her bang covered her hazel eyes. She was in her gaming mode; her emotionless face was hard to read, but her tone carried all proceedings with warning.

"And Dib? Don't embarrass me."

The man called Dib frowned.

"I'm the one carrying us through this wallowing hell hole," she continued. "The least you can do is just talk with your hands and let them respond by putting money into it when they're done talking to you. That's the way of the world's communication. Got it? If we want to eat-"

"Gaz, I got it." Dib winced at his sister's acerbic, biting words that often left him feeling guilt ridden. He had a message no one wished to hear and his preaching often got the duo thrown out. It hadn't been the first time and if he continued up as he were, it wouldn't be his last. His stomach felt raw from giving his sister the last of the beans on the ship, making certain she was full and well.

Gaz rolled her eyes, snatched her pint, and walked away; her violet hair bounced against her shoulders. Her cards in one hand, the pint in the other, and her eyes searched for someone to bet against her so she could take their money and they move onward. That was why they came, to work towards a new life. Certainly, it left Dib feeling completely useless and Gaz, to a degree, wanted her brother to wake up from whatever dream he was in.

She found herself at a table with three men whose eyes drank her in with curiosity. One of the men was tall, scraggly, and wore a bad red haircut with a matching mustache. The man beside him was short, stout, and had little to no hair. And the third sat back with straight shoulders, his hair neatly fashioned and slicked to the back of his head- jet black with hungry violet eyes. Each of these men wore a black cloak to hide the black gloves that they wore, and she took that as her cue, these men seemed like suckers. "So, the game's Poker..." She trailed off, the sound of shuffling from the old and worn deck drowning her voice further.

Dib sighed and took this opportunity to take a sip of the ale, feeling the fermented liquid fall down into his empty belly. He promised to stop neglecting it when they had enough money for at least a loaf of bread and honey.

"Is she your wife?" The bar tender inquired to strike up conversation.

"Younger sister," Dib sighed his reply, receiving the usual quizzical eyebrow to how a man could allow his younger sister to run him the way his did. There were times Dib had the thought of parting ways with Gaz, but, she was the only family he had left and he couldn't find it within himself to do it.

"Did you hear about what's happening in this war? A messenger boy came by today and updated everyone on what's transpiring. They're saying it's an all out alien invasion." The statement ended with a hearty chuckle.

The men from the table Gaz was sitting at picked their heads up to listen in further. In the light, beneath their hats, each man sitting there possessed an opaque, sickly green complexion. Dib glanced over their way, feeling the eyes lingering upon his frame as he could have sworn that was what he saw before the image flickered to a healthy, peachy tone. He blinked. He must have been tired from the voyage and pinched the bridge of his nose as the chuckling of the bar tender drilled into him.

Dib swallowed, this was what Gaz had warned him to not intervene with and the message he was desperate to convey. Although Dib had heard much of the same in his travels. But none of it was taken as anything serious. It was all a joke, to mock their enemy. The Green Coats. Enemies painted in the rivalry colors of envy, which is what they were against the Blue Coats, which was the home team. The enemy wanted their land, and upon Dib's research, it was much more than a mere scrap of land to call their own. He was thinking more along the lines of world domination.

"You…you don't say?" He chuckled nervously in return before taking another occupying sip of the ale and raised the pint before walking away. He was trying with all of his might to keep his composure.

There were actually two things that Dib had come here to accomplish, the first was to become the town crier and warn them about the evidence he had found, words that normally fell on deaf ears and aggravated his sister to no end, and the second was that he was on the hunt for someone about a job. Dib remembered clearly at school's graduation, how there was opportunity outside of their sickly borders. There was a man named Zim who could assist in job placement…for a whack job like him. Dib wound up striking the man in the end for insulting him.

Gaz threatened and reminded him time and time again to keep his mouth shut; and his sister, for the most part, was right. She wanted to survive, and Dib could hardly blame her. They had nothing back home, all family taken from them by plague. They, somehow, had managed to survive. Dib mentioned an entity watching over them, to which Gaz had simply scoffed. She didn't believe in there being a higher power.

"I'm actually looking for someone I was told would be here," Dib piped up. "I'm looking for Zim. Has anyone seen a Zim?"

The stranger at his sister's card table picked his head up. The one Dib could have sworn his complexion changed with the mention of aliens.

"I am Zim." His eyes were piercing. A sharp violet, which was unusual to say about such eyes. No one had eyes like that. This pair of unfamiliar eyes tore into Dib and left him feeling less than comfortable. But, this was the man who would point him in the right direction.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is Dib; I'm told you had connections to a job. I just came from-"

"Zim cares not where you came from." He cut Dib off, which was slightly off putting. His arched a perfectly sculpted brow and eyed the human. Dib recognized this as an intimidation factor. Zim's other cronies cleared their throats to grab his attention.

"The more you have on your side, the better," the plump one uttered. "I-I think we should take him in. He doesn't stutter or slur. He can write letters."

"Are you _crazy_?" A gruff one inquired. "He'll ruin everything. Keep your eyes on the prize, Zim." The hiss caused Dib to internally cringe slightly at the jab. Perhaps it was his nerves that made him appear inexperienced, but Dib was more educated than anyone bargained for.

"I graduated Colonial College," Dib piped up in his defense, beginning to puff his chest with pride. "I graduated with honors. I also had a run in with a friend of yours, Mr. Zim. Who recommended I come see you."

"A friend of Zim?" Zim whipped his head in Dib's direction.

"Yes. I…actually came to blows with him." This comment caught Zim's attention, the boy did not appear as though he could bear to pick his hands up to another. That showed he had moxie and Zim liked things with a little fire in them. He decided to listen in further to what the boy had to say. "He managed the financials. He doubted my honor, and rather than come to a duel, we-"

"You struck him?" Zim asked cautiously, slowly, picking each word carefully to see how the young man would reply next.

"Well, yes. But, that it to say-" Zim interrupted again. He felt his lips curl into a smirk. Yes, indeed, this boy would be useful for something or another. He almost had to have him around.

"Zim shall give you a job. Zim shall take you under his wing, but allow Zim to give you some advice. Shut that big head of yours."

"Wh-what?" Dib was caught off guard, but found his heart in his throat. He would be able to provide for himself and Gaz. His education would come in handy.

"Talk less. It'll get you places. That large head can be more trouble than it's worth."

Dib would have countered that comment, but instead, he sighed. "I don't think my head is that large," he grumbled before realizing he was harshly insulted. "It's not _that_ big!"

"Oh, but it _is_ ," Zim retorted. "Good for….eh….we'll find you something useful to do. Meet me at base- I mean, meet me at the…the office in the morning."

"Base?"

"Eh? Who said anything about a base!? No normal office worker has a base!" Zim quickly replied. "I said meet me at the office in the morning."

Everyone at the table picked their heads up, including Gaz. Gaz's scowl softened that Dib managed to keep his mouth shut long enough to not rave about his obsessions and get a job to bring some income. It seemed these loser saps did not carry much on them this evening, even though she knew she was close to winning the hand. With the draw of another card, her brown eyes perked up with delight that her predictions were correct.

"I win." Gaz presented her royal flush, to which the other men studied her hand incredulously. They were skeptical that she had cheated and as they opened their mouths, Gaz spoke again.

"Pay up." The sternness in her voice caused them to weakly jump in their seats before their black gloved hands stuffed themselves in their pockets to retrieve their money pouches. With a whine of protest, Gaz snatched them and took her winnings.

"Weaklings," Gaz sneered. "Come on, Dib. Let's find lodging."

Dib cleared his throat, paid his respects to his new employer after being informed where the office was, and began to turn away. In the pit of his stomach, it felt raw and odd. Something was churning, and nothing that read good to him. Gaz counted her earnings in her own silk money pouch. While the siblings exited the vicinity, passed the bar stools and men falling off of them drunk, the stout male turned to the one called Zim.

"So, you took him in after all?"

"It's as you say, Skooge. The more we have on our side the better we stand." Now, he placed his hands upon his hips. "If we have any chance of successfully invading this planet, we'd best gain their trust."

"Stick to your own, Zim," another kin, Madge, picked his eyes up to him, the man donning the bad haircut and mustache. "That human will be trouble."

"Nonsense, Zim has excellent judgment. The boy will be nothing more than a pawn, a messenger boy. He'll deliver the humans to me with his own two hands." The other two could tell Zim was formulating a plot, one that would either bring them glory of destruction. They had yet to tell which.

"His sister scares me," Skooge squeaked, Zim rolled his eyes and Madge placed his palm to his face and groaned.


	2. Dib Refuted

Hey all! Back with chapter two of The Revolutionary Invader. Thank you **Invader Johnny** and **Zim's Most Loyal Servant** , I really appreciated your comments! I feel in this chapter, I've introduced so many characters, but all necessary for later on! And yes, Amelia is an OC.

I have a fantastic idea for Zim, as well. You'll be seeing more of him soon! I hope you all continue to read and review, and without further ado, onto chapter two!

* * *

 **Chapter Two- Not Throwing Away His Shot/Dib Refuted**

Dib twisted and turned in bed as his subconscious selected memories he had attempted to hide. Of course, he often battled within himself because he did not wish to suppress the memories of his mother. She was sick, their father had left not too long after Gaz was born, so it was up to Dib to care for the two women in his life. He remembered Gaz being so small, their mother became so small, and she had died slowly fading away and holding onto them in the belly of winter.

Their house had no insulation, no wood for their fire. He remembered the tears and Gaz's wails. They echoed and bounced off the walls in haunting aches that he held onto.

 _"Look after one another,"_ he recalled her saying, her lips cracked and bleeding. Sores had captured her beautiful face. Her eyes were bloodshot, fingers blacked and the lesions along her arms and legs had begun to fester and caused a putrid odor to invade their home. He imagined it like a green wisp curling through the doorways and cling to the flooring. Like the air, no one had control over it. Closer and closer it crept towards the three of them and Dib fought it but it couldn't win against it.

Somehow, he hadn't died.

It curled around their mother's form. Dib held Gaz protectively to him, but he wasn't big enough to protect them both. He was the little man, but not man enough. The green wisp evolved into a blanket that covered their mother, consumed her being in a funeral blanket. Somehow, it chose to spare the siblings, which had caused confusion in the elder sibling for years.

Dib awoke in a cold sweat. His sister in the cot beside him. He woke with a jolt, panting and reaching for his glasses with trembling hands. Dib cursed his father, the father he couldn't remember. With one hand, he held his glasses and with the other he pinched the bridge of his nose to suppress the tears from coming. Ever since that dream, he never took favor to the color green.

He kept his mother's promise and looked after Gaz, no matter how trying she became throughout the years. The older she became, the less happy she seemed, especially when Dib attempted to introduce her to potential suitors. Gaz didn't understand that Dib did it to secure her a better future than one that her brother couldn't give her when he was struggling to get by himself. He didn't want to manage her suffering and Gaz saw it as her brother trying to get rid of her and eventually, he stopped trying.

"I'm trying, mom," Dib whispered into the darkness while he adjusted his glasses on his face. "Where is that bastard of a man you laid with that fathered us?" His hand clenched into a fist before he released it after a few moments. There was no sense in holding onto a question that would more than likely be never answered.

There had to be a reason they survived.

* * *

Come morning, Gaz stirred beneath her blankets as the sun crept inside. Dib had bathed, dressed, and headed downstairs to make his way towards the office where Zim had given him directions to. He adjusted the threadbare coat, tucking the disgusted notion in the back of his mind and assured himself that with a week's pay he would buy newer clothing and then proceed to secure residency for himself and his sister.

* * *

"Amelia, I think we should return home. Father's not going to like us being out here," Gretchen said in barely above a whisper as she whipped her head towards the back of her sister, who eyed the stands curiously. Gretchen tugged on one of her violet pigtails and bit her bottom lip nervously. She took slow steps in her orange gown, a pink choker around her neck.

The other woman wore a lavender gown, her neckline bare and brown curls tumbling loosely off her shoulders. She nearly came to the same height as Gretchen, a fan in her hands to block the dust that kicked back from the moving feet and carriages. So many people passed them and without a second look, which was what the woman named Amelia was hoping for, for now.

"Gretchen…" somehow the other young woman managed to hear her over the roar of the morning crowd and the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes. She closed the fan and tapped it against her open palm. "I mean, we are part of history here. The revolution is occurring," she continued breathlessly as her blue eyes lit up with excitement. The dawning of a new era, a new New York was fascinating to her.

"But, what are you looking for?" Gretchen countered meekly. "Why come out here all this way?"

"I'm looking for a mind like ours," Amelia retorted, having time to think about this question that she had ruminated in her mind, bringing her hands up and over her chest where she felt her heart beat. "I want to be part of the revolution, not just watching it from our balconies. I don't want us wasting our lives."

She noticed her sister dim to silence and frown, and Amelia's hopeful look faded. "You're free to go if you want," she said quietly.

But, Gretchen didn't want to leave her sister and instead walked over, even her steps were quiet as she slung an arm around the shoulders of her kin. Each sister was in her twenties and unmarried. Their father, Colonel Jacob Ryder, had hoped his daughters would have found eligible husbands before either of them would qualify in their lifetime as spinsters.

Amelia knew her sister was too quiet for her own good. But she also knew that one day, when she was ready, she would speak her piece. She had a feeling Gretchen was concocting something good in that mind of hers, because the Ryder sisters were brought up to be more than housewives and bearers of children. They were learned women, taught literacy, composition, music and Amelia was skilled with a piano whereas Gretchen took to a reading nook all day and devoured volumes of documents. But Amelia handled the conversations until Gretchen found her grounding.

Looking down into her sister's eyes, Amelia knew it would be time to turn back soon. She reached for the others hands and kissed them gently with loving affection. "We'll go back soon. I promise." She didn't want to cause her sibling any further discomfort.

* * *

Dib had no intention of being late for his first day on the job, glancing down to read over the directions he was given. He brushed his mouth with the back of his hand to cover his yawn. He was curious to what this job would be like, he was grateful for whatever was to pay him, but Dib wanted to be of use.

He stopped at a stand for an apple and flicked a coin to the produce manager, rubbing the piece against his shirt before biting into it. Hearing that familiar and desirable crisp crunch, Dib chewed thoughtfully. Today was the start of something new. His mission to find meaning and purpose in this land.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" the voice echoed and the sound of feet on the ground began to slow down as did Dib. He picked his head up mid chew, a well dressed individual adorning a dark cloak with black gloves upon his hands- the same gloves he had eyed the night before in the tavern with that same healthy and peachy glow. His brows knit together before swallowing the half-chewed apple, feeling that lump stick in his throat, but he soon ignored it.

"I understand there have been a fabrication of rumors spreading throughout the city and allow me to put these rumors to bed…" His arms spread, revealing red in his sleeve and Dib leaned in to observe and hear more.

"There are no such things as aliens!" Dib nearly dropped his apple.

"This nonsense again?" a bystander groaned. "If I hear about mythical creatures from outer space again."

"The only aliens out there are the enemy taxing our tea and threatening to touch our whiskey." The voice was heavily laced with a thick accent of sorts, dripping with feminism. The bystander's significant other touched his arm as she shook her dainty head, wisps of purple hair framing her angular face. She had a beauty mark beneath her right eye.

"But there are aliens," Dib found himself saying, his free hand balling into a fist and crumpling the directions. "You people are blind to the truth that'll collapse in front of you when it's too late and you're all enslaved."

"Excuse me?" The bystander and his significant other turned their heads in his direction. "With what proof do you have?"

"Documents from Professor-"

"That crazy windbag, Professor Smite?" The bystander chuckled, which only caused the blood to boil in the young believer. "Son, read something worthwhile, like a text book." It was the laughter that struck him.

"But, what about the soldiers who went missing!?"

"Son, they passed away in the throngs of war."

"The bodies were never recovered," Dib challenged. The violet haired woman quirked a brow in interest.

Rather than allow his emotions to overthrow him, Dib counted to ten in his mind and looked up at the preacher. All Dib had were pamphlets from other believers and those who had claimed to see them with their descriptions. No concrete evidence had surfaced, none yet. Even back home, waving them around, Dib looked like a mad man on a mission and people stopped, they stared, and then they either threw their trash at him or they just kept moving.

If he wanted people to believe him, he needed something rock solid to show. Show them, don't tell them.

Grunting, Dib stormed off, the preacher's arms lowering and with a hard look his direction. No one took note of the static shock that flickered in his eyes. Dib had drawn attention to himself, and none to his benefit. He continued to pick up the pace, certain by now he was near being late if he wasn't already. Faster and faster his legs picked up, not watching where he was going until he collided into something, or rather, someone.

"Amelia!"

A feminine shrill caught Dib off guard as he knocked a woman off her balance. He collided into her and sent them onto the hard ground below. The cry of another woman rang in his ears as he cursed himself. Lifting his head, he caught the gaze of a pink choker and lips parted in distress. He dipped his head down, the tip of his scythe drooping and pointing towards the heart of the woman he had fallen into and met the dark blue eyes that reflected against his glasses that clung to the tip of his nose. His breath shallow as his blood ran cold. Her chest heaved in response.

"Amelia!"

Dib shook his head, noticing the light silk against the dried, tan dirt and blanched. He realized what had occurred while he wasn't looking.

"Miss, a-are you a-alright?" He stammered in shock.

"Ah," she winced, attempting to apply her weight onto her elbow before realizing his weight was still on her. "y-you're still on me."

It felt as though he flung himself off her, falling back onto his rear before the other woman knelt to help her friend or her sister up. Dib's eyes were wide as he took in the scene before him. Both appeared distressed and he never wanted to see that look on a woman's face. Fuck, how clumsy could he be? Adjusting his glasses, he could see her gown was filthy and torn at the elbow. But, no other physical damage, he observed. That still didn't keep him from feeling bad.

"Miss, if there's anything I can do to help-"

"We should go home now, Amelia," Gretchen whispered to her. "Please."

"But, I-"

Amelia inspected her gown and began to brush herself off, noticing her elbow was scraped and Dib appeared further mortified. "No harm done," she replied, finally in a low yet soft voice, her eyes meeting his once more. "Really. It's fine."

He paused, only able to nod. The woman with the curled pigtails eyes were on him, as well. Black and blue bearing into him as red invaded his cheeks. "Can I see you home, at least? Or at least call a carriage for you?"

The brunette shook her head, continuing to brush her gown off. "We should be going." She shook, though slightly, from the contact. Though her sister's hands supported her, Dib was responsible and thought he should take charge. However, he felt he would be met with the same blockades repeatedly: they did not want him to follow them home. Feeling now like a rejected puppy, he at least watched them off before he continued to trail his own way towards the office after picking up the crumpled paper. He inwardly vowed that if they should ever meet again, he would make it up to her. Though barely, she was injured due to his negligence and emotions over the topic of aliens.

Thinking about it like that caused his face to redden even more.

* * *

Pushing the door open to the office, the men from the night prior all picked their heads up in unison. "You're late."

Dib blanched, especially as the one with the bad haircut and mustache eyed him crudely as his elfish nose turned up in near disgust. "You're covered in filth."

"There is no time for filthiness and cleanup-ery," Zim hollered from his desk, donning a visor as he dragged a pencil across a large sheet of paper. "Send the big headed one to see Keef to get started."

"My head is not big!" Dib countered, snorting before Skoodge waddled from behind his own desk to escort the new recruit towards the back of the building.

"Ignore Madge," Skoodge muttered. "He's always cranky in the morning." He was received with a nod in reply as they continued on their way towards the back where the labor took place. They passed rows of tables with spreadsheets and blueprints. He assumed these men were designers. The voice of his sister ran frothy against his back to not ask too many questions.

Do the work, get paid, do the work, get paid. He was just starting, not to make trouble for himself. He couldn't afford to pick up and leave if he did.

He also countered his thoughts of taking charge of his life. Gaz may have been right, but he was his own man. One day, he would do something for himself that would be a great benefit to everyone. He was waiting for the opportunity to strike like a gold or platinum mine.

"Hey there!" a cheerful voice rang out, high pitched and sugary; too much for the morning and Dib already had a headache. "I'm Keef, it's nice to make your acquaintance."

"Uh, hi."

Several other heads picked up. Manual workers collecting wood and other oddities. He glanced back towards the front to see Zim and the others curling over their less straining work.

"You need several promotions to get up there with them. But, no one has seemed to."

"You mean they dangle promotions?" Dib inquired, unable to help his natural habit of asking questions. He sought answers.

"I'm sure they're looking for the best workers for the job," Another worker, Melvin, added.

"What are they building?" Dib further pried, but only received shrugs.

"They pay us well. That's all we know," Keef replied and added a shrug of his own.

"Has anyone asked? I mean, whatever they're building, it seems…big."

"The last guy who asked…we never saw again," Keef shifted a nervous glance towards the front of the store. "We don't want to be fired."

Dib thought it strange. So, they recruited men to do these jobs, and anyone who had the nerve to ask got the boot.

"So, they use promotions to motivate everyone to work harder and not give them?" The young man frowned.

"Less talking and more working!" Zim hollered from his desk. Moments after he uttered those words, a small green form began to toddle towards them. Initially, he thought it to be a child in its pajamas. Maybe one of them brought their son or daughter into work with them today before he realized it was a dog. The dog stopped at Dib's feet, looking up at him as Dib blinked slowly in return. Did no one else see this?

There was an odd, pregnant pause before the dog then turned to watch the other men who lowered their pencils and pieces of wood to eye the dog in return. Dib rubbed his eyes. It was odd that this dog was green, it was odd that this dog walked on its hind legs…though he was sure he had seen stranger, he supposed. Maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep. Or, perhaps, this was the beginnings of a clue that he desperately needed. Slowly, he lifted his head. So, then, which one of them was the owner of this dog?


	3. Right Hand Man

Hey all! I think this is my most difficult chapter, yet. Battle scenes are not my forte, but I gave it a shot all the same because it was detrimental to the plotline. I hope you all like it!

I'm sorry about the confusion about Amelia and Gretchen. Gretchen has a lot of growth to undergo, I think, so I believe I've finally decided on the role I'm looking to give her. I wanted all of the characters in Invader Zim to be somewhat canon to their role in the show. Gretchen, we know, has a crush on Dib. Also, we'll be seeing faces like Bill and Dwicky. That'll be fun!

Also...I don't know how to feel about Membrane taking Washington's role...but we'll see how it plays out. I didn't want to fill the fic with too many OCs. The first is Amelia and the next up is Laurent to take the role of John Laurens.

* * *

 **Chapter Three- You'll Be Back/Right Hand Man**

"My Tallest, these humans wish to go through with a human war with sharp objects on the end of their guns. They wish to…claim their….independence…" Zim, again, chose his words carefully as he communicated with his leaders. Down in the basement of his shop after closing, weeks after he had hired Dib, he had his own little base sectioned off from the remainder of the warehouse. He used technology hidden from the humans, whose brains most certainly could not wrap around the concept of technology itself. Meanwhile, Zim had trouble understanding what a bayonet's function was.

His leaders, with whom he spoke of as his "Tallest" were just that: they were incredibly tall. Two males with different colored eyes being their only main difference. That, and their personalities. The leader with red eyes appeared in thought of this, far in the reaches of space, he could have humored Zim with anything he desired to hear.

"Tch, why don't you go with them?" He asked aloud and not necessarily to Zim. Tallest Red only thought of this as a means to get rid of the pesky invader.

"And study their tactics of war to use against them?" Zim inquired in return, matching question for question to see if he fully understood.

"Sure, why not?"

"Excellent suggestion, My Tallest!" Zim's own crimson eyes widened in delight at the notion. Finally, he would have war in his hands again and his role as an invader would serve purpose. So much necessary purpose.

Tallest Purple eyed his comrade cautiously, knowing well what this could mean. He already saw the question before it came from Zim, and so he decided to nudge his companion lightly.

"You know what he's going to ask for," he hissed softly, his claws resting gently upon his shoulder.

Red flinched at that, knowing well that Purple was right on target as Zim was too quiet for his liking. The little Irken was rubbing his jaw in thought, Red envisioned the laundry list of items Zim would next request for in order to successfully blow up the underdeveloped world. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't care. But, some of his best soldiers were undercover for this mission.

"My Tallest!" Zim announced. "As such the role of an invader, I am going to require some special weapons."

"Special weapons, Zim?" Purple repeated.

"The Megadoomer, for starters," Zim did indeed begin the laundry list that Red had feared. "And perhaps some proton blasters, the miniature ones that evaporate the enemy and leave behind their shoes? Those are always fun! And then I'll need-"

Red cut him off. He raised his clawed hand and looked down at the invader, even from the depths of space over a monitor. "Zim, I don't think that'll be necessary," Red intruded on his thoughts. He took in the glare of protest from Zim, only to close his eyes and shake his head.

"You're getting ahead of yourself." Purple then peered over, curious as to where his companion was going with this.

"I am?" Zim asked, blinking slowly as he proceeded to lower his excited fists.

"Don't you think it would be more effective to study the humans, and like you said, to use their tactics against them?" Red leaned into the screen, hopeful the little insane one would comprehend. When he didn't receive a response from Zim, he continued. "The humans, from how you've described, are very strong in their _feelings_ and _emotions_. Something a lot of the other alien races out there don't seem to have."

"This is," Zim paused. "True."

"Don't you think you'll have a stronger effect against the humans if you pretend to be on their side and then attack them with their own?" Red finalized.

Zim glanced away and down from the screen, pondering just this. His eyes appeared to be searching for the right answer for this. Deep down, he was hopeful to show off his alien technology, the pride of the Irken Elite. He wanted Irken pride stamped everywhere, as he envisioned. He wanted so much more than what his leaders were suggesting.

"But, my Tallest-"

"Rip them little by little, like tissue paper, Zim," Red pressed.

Could doing as was suggested have more effect than blasting them away like the roaches they were? They just kept breeding and copulating. Again, another process Zim just could not comprehend as Irkens bred in a different matter. But, like roaches, they kept producing newer versions of themselves every day. They were unstoppable.

"Blasting them away wouldn't be as satisfying, would it?"

"No, my Tallest, it wouldn't," Zim said, almost defeated.

"Then take my advice. Undercover Invader. See things from their perspective and strike when the time comes for it."

"Undercover Invader?" Zim tested the title on his tongue.

"You're defeating them by merely observing alone. Let them rip one another apart by going to war. And just when they think they've won, then you'll attack. You're an Invader, you'll know what to do."

"You are right that my most impressive and extensive training will suffice and come in handy when the time comes," Zim agreed. "So, then I'll-"

"Then it's settled. No use for Irken technology right now," Red shrugged coolly. "Alright Zim, we're done here." Red clicked and severed the communication before Zim could respond.

"You just didn't want to give it to him, did you?" Purple smirked.

"We have some of our best invaders out there, right now," Red replied, glancing over his shoulder back to Purple. "Tenn, Tak, Zia, even Skoodge."

"Doesn't Skoodge hang around Zim?" Purple arched a brow.

"For now until something better along comes, I'm sure. No one could stand Zim for lengths of time, anyway." Red waved his hand. Could Purple really deny the truth in that?

The two finally made eye contact before bursting out into a chorus of laughter. Red had no intention of wasting technology on Zim. He was just too untrustworthy with it to just be given away freely. Who knows, maybe Zim would even perish in battle. A defective invader was no invader, at all.

* * *

So, Zim closed down the warehouse to sign them all up for the impending war against Britain. Their King, King George III was convinced that those seeking their independence would come crawling back like dogs to the feet of their master. King George also promised to squash their battalion. Zim, intrigued, couldn't wait to learn more about this man.

Dib seemed keen on joining, considering this his opportunity to make something of himself and to make his sister proud. Dib had no wife to come home to, yet, so his sister was all who he had. The only way for him to grow as a person was to live. He couldn't rely on waiting for life to come find him; he had to make his own. Perhaps he was even hopeful of making a name for himself this way. All of the other men seemed enthusiastic to serve their country, and this land was yearning to become independent from Britain's hold, just as Dib was hopeful to one day become just as independent to stand alone. His eyes shone with pride as he was handed his uniform, and suppressed the urge to clutch the fabric to him with delight.

"You signed us up for this crappy battle? This is no different than the play pens back home," Madge hissed.

"Zim thinks it'll be good for us to learn their battle strategies." Skoodge decided to defend Zim, as Zim was one of the few true friends he could consider possessing and Irkens didn't have friends, they had comrades and partners.

Madge shook his head and donned the uniform, finding it silly and revolting to wear a uniform that wasn't of the Irken party. In his hand was a remote to keep up the fleshy complexions, turning the dial with his thumb, and each dial was set to each Invader. Madge was quite pleased with himself for inventing such a device.

Madge heard hisses of there being a leader approaching them, he heard such titles as "The General" and "His Excellency." He was curious, perhaps it was an invader under the game guise as them. But no, the man towered over them in the dark uniform, golden buttons shone intimidatingly against the badges he possessed. Goggles for glasses, but he supposed that was to prevent blood from getting into his eyes. His imagination ran wild, wickedly and Madge attempted to suppress a grin at the gore trickling in his mind. This war had so much potential.

"Sush. It appears our leader is approaching," Zim commented.

The man placed his hands behind his back, eyeing the soldiers carefully. "My father was a General before me, and he trained me in the ways of battle. Normally, science has been my first love, but fate has a funny way of exposing itself to where you are meant to be." He slowly walked down the line as the men situated themselves into one. "But, duty comes before anything else. As much as I am a graduate and scholar, I am a soldier first and foremost. This war is no humorous ploy, there are no breaks, there is no retiring home after the end of the day to your loved ones. We return when the war has ended."

"Yes, sir!" The man said in unison, Zim peered over as all he, Madge and Skoodge were doing was saluting.

"To conclude, my name is Professor John Membrane. You may call me "Professor" if you so wish. We proceed to battle at 0600 hours. We shall ride."

But, none of the men did. They addressed him as "General", "His Excellency", or even the occasional, "Professor." He went by all of them just the same come morning. But the universal "sir, yes sir" rang out loud and true.

* * *

At dawn, all of the men rode onto the battle field. They rode horseback along a long stretch of land, cautious though they were of the enemy. Special men were assigned to the task of lookout. Nowhere was safe and there was no fair play when it came to war. They were welcomed with a barrage of gun and canon fire. Many of the men shrieked in retreat, terrified, yet many, including all of Zim's warehouse men, remained.

Even Keef and Melvin took position, Madge looking over the young boys and instructing them on what to do.

"Don't show them how to hold a gun that way! But this way!" Zim snatched the bayonet from Madge and proceeded to stare at it obliviously. Dib crouched down behind a trench, firing his gun. For those who didn't know how to fire a weapon, they picked it up as they went along. Zim eyed the bayonet and used a jabbing motion to show to use it by striking.

"I don't think that's how it's done!" Madge argued.

"Will you two shut up!?" Dib hollered as Keef and Melvin cowered in fear deep within the trench. The two were not soldiers, but Zim signed them up all the same. Dib glared at the group he was associated with. With each explosion of the balls against the ground, he could have sworn he noticed a flickering in the trio's complexion, just as he had the first night he met them.

But, none of that seemed to matter. Especially as Zim appeared terribly distracted and something/someone was nearing to attack him. While he barely knew Zim, he helped when he needed it the most. He helped to put food on Dib's table and a roof over his head. Taking the image to be the effects of war, Dib shook his head and took a breath. There was no time to overthink things now as he stretched into play and reached for his employer. He seemed so far away, the reality of the situation playing in slow motion for Dib to fully grasp.

Contact was made and he tackled Zim to the ground. The attacker lost his balance and fell into the trench, where he was met with a shot to the chest by Madge, readily crouched into position and staring menacingly at the attacker. Dib picked his head up, this now being the second time he knocked someone onto the ground; not that he was looking to make a habit of it, but, this time was necessary.

The two men looked at one another, Dib on top of Zim as the other appeared embarrassed that he wasn't more agile, or more alert. He smacked Dib from him as the other glared.

"Who said you could touch Zim!?" Zim aggressively brushed off his clothing and snatched his gun from the ground.

Attempting to process this reaction, Dib shook his head, noticing the other men having stopped to stare at them.

"Come on, you guys!" He attempted to encourage them. "Pick up your gun. Start fighting."

"Our honor is at stake!" A fellow soldier proclaimed. Dib glanced over at him. Sun kissed arms exposed by rolled up sleeves. His chocolate eyes were disarming, as even Dib blinked. "Our honor is our most important asset, gentlemen."

Honor? Dib heard the word, albeit, never understood the meaning up until this point. He assumed it came with life experience and the points gained through it. Battle was not pretty, as Dib could see- limbs scattered on the field, dirt caked with wet blood on the soles of their boots.

"Without our honor." Dib heard clearly through the gun fire. "We have nothing and are nothing." That he understood with certain clarity.

"I'm Dib!" He shouted over the gunfire and sank into the depths of the trenches.

"Laurent Clemens!" He replied and held his hand out to shake the others hand to which Dib took without hesitation and shook it.

"That was quite a powerful speech!"

"Everything I've said is true. In today's day and age, a man only has his honor. Hold it close to you, Dib!" Laurent offered the other man a grin before hearing a whistle overhead, a large black ball come in contact with the dirt, to which the velocity sent the men backward and indented them into the trench with a dissatisfying groan.

Those cannons made quite a powerful explosion, and only if there was a way for he and his men to have such a tool on their side. There was one way, he thought to himself, and would require the assistance of a few men to accomplish it.

"I'll need you to cover me, Laurent," Dib said as he held his side, peeling himself from against the wall of the trench. "You, me, and the others. Let's steal some cannons."

"That is a brilliant plan, my friend!" Laurent's eyes glistened in admiration. "Let's go!"

"Are you hurt?" Dib then asked.

"It is but a flesh wound," Laurent waved him off. Scrapes and bruises were part of the fun of battle. Dying was an honor.

The two men waved along Skoodge, Zim, Madge, Keef and Melvin. Zim insisted on staying behind to better shoot his weapon and learn more about his bayonet. Madge refused to leave Zim unattended and men should always have a cover for one another. Dib shook his head and continued, hearing Madge call him crazy, followed by how such an action would get himself killed. Dib had heard worse in his lifetime and continued to crawl through the trench, realizing then he was taking charge and leading these men.

Initially, the thought scared him and caused him to stop, only for the encouraging nudge of Laurent to keep him going. "You've got this my friend. We are going to steal some cannons!" He chuckled heartily. Dib smiled in return and continued to crawl, making haste and pausing when he heard the whistling of another ball. Adjusting his glasses, he waved the other men along.

"On my signal," Dib said, although Laurent struck the soldier wielding the cannon and Dib watched him fall into the center of the trench. Melvin quickly tied him up, happy he didn't have to endure the more physical work of this labor. Whether or not Dib understood it, he had completely reversed the scenario in the favor of his troupe.

* * *

The men later celebrated with cheers of admiration, something Dib had never before experienced. Sure, he had the support from his loved ones to send him off to school and send him away from the land he once called home. But, it was nothing in comparison to these men chanting his name in admiration and honor.

"Do you believe that Dib managed to turn the tide like that?" Madge inquired.

"It was honestly really brave," Skoodge retorted. "Something Zim would have done, I think."

"Zim would have taken out the full battalion if he had the proper equipment," Madge chuckled. "But, you know, Zim, Dib did save your life."

"The Dib had shown great promise out there. But, I'm going to request audience with the General to discuss further tactics. The boy is inexperienced in warfare," Zim said with a sigh as he rose from the cot he was staying in, making sure it was apart from the other soldiers so he, Madge, and Skoodge could have their privacy.

"You managed to figure out the use of the bayonet?" Madge asked with a playful smirk upon his features, which earned a grunt and annoyed look in response from Zim.

"You stabby stabby with it. Everyone knows that. Now zip it before I use it on you." And with that, Zim turned his heel and proceeded to march towards where the General resided.

Skoodge shook his head, glancing back towards Dib who was looked upon as a victor, for once in his lifetime, as opposed to a loser. Zim owed the boy an apology, but his ego was too big and he had too much pride.

"So, you see, General. I think we should move in sections of men to cover more ground in order to annihilate the filthy enemy. If we send in troops in small battalions, we're more likely to-"

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Dib asked as he poked his head, opening the door ajar.

"Ah, yes, the boy who plays with cannons. Come on inside. And soldier? Close the door on the way out."

Zim balked at this, lowering his hands to his sides. He glared at the boy who was slowly taking his glory away from him. Perhaps it was jealousy that was brewing inside of Zim. He was uncertain of what the feeling was, as he was always so sure of himself and his actions. But, a simple boy was stripping the uncertainty from Zim and he knew he didn't like it. He left, as was commanded.

"I was quite impressed with your actions. Risky, oh ho, incredibly so. But, we need more concrete risk like that," Membrane said as he picked his head up from his desk to eye the young man. "I see a lot of you in myself."

"Sir?"

"I'm hearing a lot of men are after you. To join them, I mean. Be part of their team, but I understand you're not interested?"

"I'm more of a…loner." Dib cleared his throat.

"A young man like you has potential," the larger man rose from his desk, adjusting his goggles before placing his hands upon his back and rounding the desk corner. "I could use a man like you at my side."

"As a, what, sir?"

Membrane leaned against the front of the desk, eyeing Dib carefully. "A Right-Hand Man. Someone to assist me, address letters for me. What do you say?" He offered his hand to the other man to shake.

Laurent had said that honor was everything. He would be dishonoring his commander, he would dishonor himself by passing up this opportunity. Although, Dib had a taste of the battlefield. It was something he wanted more of, he naturally led those men; he sampled power and was accepted while doing it. That was all Dib could have asked for. He would lose all of that by being at this man's side. But, by denying the role, he would do the one thing he vowed he wouldn't.

"I won't throw away my shot," he said with a smile, and accepted the general's hand.


	4. Winter's Helpless

Okay! Another packed chapter! I hope I don't lose anyone in the midst of this. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all are enjoying reading this! Soon enough, Dib will confirm his suspicions, but I didn't want it happening too soon or all at once. I don't want this painstakingly slow, but all the events unravel slowly. If that makes any kind of sense.

 **ZimsMostLoyalServant** : As far as Membrane being Dib and Gaz's father. Yeah, I think he will be. Whether or not Dib or Membrane is willing to acknowledge the other is a different story. Dib I can see being quite reluctant of accepting Membrane, and especially how in the series Membrane chooses to not acknowledge him as much as Gaz. So, this actually does reinforce **Invader Johnny's** comment of Dib accepting a deal with the devil.

I'm leaning on the speculation of Gretchen being Angelica and Amelia being the Eliza. While Angelica was the more outspoken sister, this is giving Gretchen an opportunity to grow as a character. I hope you'll see what I mean in later chapters. Please continue to read and review, thank you so much for your continuing support of The Revolutionary Invader!

* * *

 **Fun Fact(s):** As this fic toddles along, I'd like to incorporate some fun facts and history. The musical Hamilton was historically inaccurate in some aspects, but I respect the creative license of Lin Manuel Miranda, which made the musical so pleasurable. To me, the man is a genius in what he has created to share with the rest of the world.

 _ **Fact 1: The Ryders are based off the Schuyler family (obviously, haha). Philip and Catherine "Kitty" Schuyler had fifteen children altogether. The Ryders I thought would have ten.**_

 _ **Fact 2: Angelica Schuyler did not actually meet Alexander Hamilton until after he and Eliza were wed. Angelica had eloped with John Church to London and brought "shame" to the family. The same can be said for the third sister, Peggy, who had also eloped.**_

 _ **Fact 3: Eliza and Alexander met in February 1780, officially, in Eliza's aunt's home. (This is also where I understood that it was unfavorable for an unmarried woman to be alone with a man. In the novel,**_ **I, Eliza Hamilton** _ **, stresses this) They met briefly prior when Alexander ate at the Schuyler's home, The Pastures, in passing. However, after their official meet, they remained close thereafter to wed in December of that year.**_

I tried to combine both fact and musical in this chapter where Dib, Amelia, and Gretchen meet. I've also made characters for Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan. Zim will also take interest in someone on behalf of Burr's affair with Theodosia. Oooh. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Four- A Winter's Ball/Helpless- Part One**

 **February 1780**

Amelia and Gretchen were not the only children within the Ryder family. Colonel, now Senator Jacob Ryder had ten children in total. Amelia (22), Gretchen (21), Joshua (21), Sandra (20), Alexander (17), Angelica (14), Jessica (13), Bishop (13), Roslyn (11), and Nathaniel (04). Their mother, Nancy, was a seamstress, who was hopeful for a good future for any and all of her children. Both Joshua and Alexander were keen on joining the army and become a high-ranking officer like their father. Jacob was hopeful that his daughters would marry men who would be able to provide and care for them.

The first to marry was their sister Sandra, who had eloped because her choice in husband was less than favorable. Jacob and Nancy were distraught at the loss of their daughter and in such a manner. They had hoped that their daughter would find herself able to come to them, but alas, she chose to handle herself in the manner she had and brought what they believed to be shame to the Ryder family.

Jacob applied pressure to his eldest daughters, Amelia and Gretchen, who were far more interested in everything but marriage. They appeared defiant to the notion of finding an eligible husband. Gretchen was too shy and Amelia was far too challenging. Jacob felt he had tried everything within his power, even threatening Amelia to send her to her instructor, Ms. Bitters, who would eventually match her with a man of _her_ choosing. Amelia found that to be degrading, as anyone Ms. Bitters were to choose would be as morbid and depressing as she was.

"Amelia, you are the hope as my eldest daughter to set an example for your siblings."

"Father," Amelia frowned. "You simply cannot force me to marry a man for the sake of marriage."

"Girl, you try my patience," Jacob sighed and covered his mouth with his burly hand.

That seemed to always be the back and forth conversation between father and daughter. Amelia was the eldest, and bore the pressure upon her to set the example for her siblings. Eventually, Jacob Ryder would tire of her insolence and make a choice. He entertained the idea of putting together a ball, he also entertained the idea of inviting General Membrane and some of his troops over for an evening meal; anything to strike interest in his daughters. As much as Jacob wished for his daughters to be their own women, he also did not want to see them enter spinsterhood. Life was hard alone, and he didn't want to see that for any of his children.

It was a cold January evening when Jacob Ryder had sent word out to General Membrane, a friend of his, to extend an invitation for a warm meal upon their return from camp. He had heard of their success in the first battle, and wanted to congratulate them with a dinner in their honor. General Membrane accepted the invitation, along with his aide-de-camp, Dib, and fellow soldiers Zim, Laurent, Madge, Frenchman Porter Wynn, and Blake Butcher. Dib had brought along his sister, Gaz, as a fellow aide to the troops while Dib tended to General Membrane, who kept a very close eye on the young man.

Jacob stood outside the door of the large brown home, between the white columns. Tonight, however, would not just be about The General and his crew. Tonight, he had also extended invitation to several of his political acquaintances well after dinner. Jacob Ryder was fond of entertaining guests, and big parties to keep his likeness likeable, especially when voting time came around the bend. That, and the family enjoyed entertaining as their home was open to anyone who sought shelter, comfort, and/or a warm meal.

The ajar front door emitted a yellow glow from the candlelight. Nancy stood beside her husband, appearing very pregnant with their eleventh child as she waved with her handkerchief in hand as the horses rode in. Amelia stood at the top of the stairs, able to see the back of her mother's navy-blue gown and her father's hand behind his back. She leaned against the banister and glanced over to her sisters, their brothers eyeing them peculiarly, finding women to be the oddest creatures. Amelia cringed as the horses galloped their way towards their front door.

"General Membrane! So good of you to stop by this evening!" Jacob's tone rose jovially.

"I almost didn't make it," the other replied honestly. "I would have had to send young Dib in my stead."

"Ah, yes, your rather brave aide-de-camp. My boy, it's a pleasure."

"No, Senator Ryder, the pleasure is mine."

Amelia perked up at the sound of that voice as she exchanged glances with Gretchen. That voice sounded so oddly familiar that the familiarity was warming to the young woman. She would have to gain sight of the young man to determine where she remembered him from. Hearing alone wasn't enough for her.

"Senator, may I also congratulate you in your seat." Membrane chuckled as Dib complimented the elder. "May I also present to you my younger sister, Gaz."

His voice was more confident and fuller than Amelia last remembered. Gretchen crouched down to see if she could see for herself, glancing back up at Amelia upon occasion for guidance. Amelia gestured for her to rise when not even Gretchen could make out his face. Gretchen saw their father bend to take the young woman's hand and press his lips to the back of it.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Nancy, and my daughters and sons are inside and are awaiting to make your acquaintance. Please, enter and we shall take drinks in the parlor before dinner is ready."

All of the Ryder children stood in a line against the banister, curious of the new faces as they filed in one by one. Audibly, Amelia sucked in a gasp as she saw the man's face who had knocked into her in the marketplace what felt like so long ago. Dib paused when he caught the eyes of the sisters, his face reddening slightly, appearing as though he had never forgotten them, either.

"Amelia, I don't believe it," Gretchen whispered to her sister. "The man that knocked you over."

"Man that knocked you over?" Joshua quirked a brow that mimicked his father's. "What man? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

His meek sister could only reply in a slow nod, before watching Amelia retreat away from the staircase. Jacob glanced at this exchange, his sons descending the large staircase, boots and shoes moving in unison along the crimson carpet, followed by his daughters apart from Gretchen, who was holding onto her sister Amelia.

"We should go down now," Gretchen said, for once taking charge as she followed her and tugged upon her sister's elbow. "Come on. I know you and father have your differences, but this is an event he is counting on us to attend. Joshua and Alexander are hoping General Membrane will consider taking the two of them into his fold."

* * *

As each of the Ryder children lined up on either side of the staircase, the boys to the left against the railing, and the girls to the right against the wall with the exception of Gretchen and Amelia, who had retreated to the bedroom. "General Membrane, my sons: Joshua, Alexander, Bishop, and Nathaniel." All four boys saluted in response.

"And my daughters: Angelica, Jessica, and Roslyn. My daughters Gretchen and Amelia must be detained." The girls offered a curtsey.

"Thank you for your service, gentlemen," Angelica offered with a chorus of thanks from the remainder of her siblings. Jacob and Nancy beamed with pride, although Jacob glared towards the staircase where Amelia had retreated to.

"Such well-mannered children, Ryder," Membrane smiled, perhaps even a hint of warmth between his lips.

While Gretchen was attempting to coerce Amelia into complying with the evening's plans, Zim glanced around the house and the paintings on the wall. The traditional landscape portraits many humans seemed to be so fond of, along with paintings of the family.

One in particular was of a red farmhouse, rolling green hills with lush detailing to the blades of grass. To any normal human, the grass looked soft enough to lay in. But, what stood out above the blades of grass was the choice of blue chosen for the sky. It appeared so crisp, clean, barely any clouds invading the sky.

Zim took a moment to wonder about the intrigue such places must have sparked within these humans to pay such vast areas any kind of mind. He scratched his wig, which had begun to itch, before setting his hands behind his back. Once the invasion took place, after Zim had satisfied enough data to The Tallest to make his next move, such greenery would be gone and in its place would be the decay of the fall of New York. Those rolling hills would be licked with flames and the farmhouse would be alit with ominous disaster.

"Kind of nauseating, isn't it?" Zim glanced over his shoulder to see black lace against a dark purple gown, silk, if Zim remembered correctly. Dib must have purchased such a gown for her, as he realized the voice belonged to Dib's younger sister. Zim had seen her, briefly, on occasion. Ladies were never meant to be alone for extensive periods with strange men, or so he had heard. That was an interesting notion on its own.

"Eh? Which are you referring to?" Zim asked.

"The happy landscape with the pastel flowers and perfectly blue sky. There's no such thing," Gaz huffed.

"What nonsense are you prattling on about?" Zim felt himself become slightly agitated, however, attempted to maintain his composure.

"The painting is bullshit," she replied flatly. She wasn't getting any clearer than that.

Zim turned around fully to face the young woman, blinking slowly in response. The majority of the human women that he had encountered were of happy sorts, always escorted, primping, holding umbrellas, and indulged in strange courting habits. Many of these women were unionized and taken by other men. Ownership, Zim called it once. Madge explained what a human marriage was and its significance; Zim corrected him, claiming it was ownership. However, then thought it to be brilliant as Zim desired ownership of the human race.

"You don't think so? You don't see it?" Gaz was waiting for a response. By now, everyone else was ushered into the dining room. It was a matter of time before Dib would come look for Gaz, and she could already feel the irritation well up inside of her.

"Eh? No, I mean, I do. I…uh…agree!" Zim replied quickly and glanced back again at the painting before turning his attention back to Gaz quickly. "Humans have such strange taste in what they consider…tasteful. I've seen this painting before in other locations."

"Because people are dumb as hell and want to escape to such a place. Not me, I want to get out of here, but I prefer the dark."

Oddly enough, Zim found this refreshing. This woman was not afraid to speak herself and refused to bite her tongue. He could see her knuckles whiten at the idea of the unrealistic painting. Zim looked down at his own hands, which had lowered to his sides. What an interesting human. She would make a fine addition, if Zim intended to spare a human life.

"What idiot paints a farmhouse?"

That question would be left unanswered, as Gaz had suspected, Dib and Madge entered the foyer to see his sister with his fellow soldier. It was thought unethical for women to be alone with men who weren't their husbands. He had a duty to protect her with everything he had.

"Gaz, why don't you come have a drink? Senator Ryder's daughters are telling stories-"

"I really would love nothing more than to be hit by a carriage than listen to their prattle." The sarcasm dripped from her tone and caused Dib to sigh and look at his sister dejectedly.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Because this is pointless!" Gaz replied before leaning against the doorway of one of the parlors.

Zim watched between the two siblings, although he had to side with the young woman on this. There were better things he could do with this evening, such as further plan for world domination. He had a feeling she was on the brink of either thinking or accomplishing the very same.

"C'mon, Gaz. Let's just endure this dinner tonight and then we can go." He attempted to assure his sister to appease her in order for her to cooperate. "Excuse us, Zim."

"Take your little sister and go. I'm certain you have _much_ mingling to do." Zim's darkened, glowering eyes followed Dib as he escorted Gaz away from him and towards the parlor where the others were drinking, laughing, and doing just as Zim has suggested, mingling. The soldiers and Ryder's daughters interacting, his sons stealing away General Membrane's time, which gave Dib an opportunity to breathe. If Zim had only acted sooner, that could have been him where Dib stood and carried the title he ached for. Dib couldn't appreciate his role now as the young man hungered for the battlefield again. Zim considered Dib's position another step closer to power and Zim wanted it.

"You can't beat yourself up over this. There is still time to make up what you've lost," Madge attempted to console the other.

* * *

Dib escorted Gaz into the parlor, where Senator Ryder looked up with a smile, and then turned his attention back onto General Membrane and his sons, who appeared to be hanging onto every word the General uttered.

"Laurent, my friend. Would you mind being my sister's companion this evening?"

The other male patted Dib's back gently. "My friend, anything for you."

Gaz rolled her eyes.

The man's hand lingered there, as Dib turned towards the doorway. While the parlor had carpeting, the hall leading to it did not. He could hear the sound of heels gently caressing the tile with every step. His eyes laid upon the two sisters he had met weeks ago. Their maids escorted them into the parlor, announcing them.

"Rosie, don't," Amelia said to the maid with a gentle smile.

"But miss, I must. Your father requested-"

"I am requesting you take it easy tonight." Although that statement brought the other's chocolate eyes to widen as Laurent frowned gently. Dib felt Laurent's hand tighten upon him and glanced up at the other.

"Someday, we'll stop all of this." He referred to the abomination identified as slavery. Laurent had escaped the perils of being one, and made it part of his mission to end it once and for all. While Laurent spoke passionately on the topic one evening in their barracks, he had attracted the attention of Frenchman, Porter Wynn, and tailor's apprentice, Blake Butcher. The one thing all of those men had in common: they had barely escaped the clutches of the devil himself.

Laurent nodded, feeling the hands of Porter and Blake as they consoled him. Dib's mother had slaves, from what he remembered. But they were playmates, and she always considered them part of the family. Watching this young woman touch hers so gently, speak to her kindly, he knew she didn't mistreat them. Her family didn't mistreat them. They also didn't free them, but that was a whole other issue unto itself.

Gretchen turned her head to see the young man they had encountered, what felt like ages ago, was eyeing them in a curious manner. She felt her cheeks redden at the predicament they had found themselves in, but she and her sister had survived it. Amelia spoke of him often for a few days thereafter, curious if they'd ever see him again, and here they were.

"Amelia, he's staring."

Amelia turned from Rosie to pick her head up at him. Their eyes met from across the room. Gretchen noted how she wrung her handkerchief in her hands, knuckles whitening. In time, Amelia's chest rose and fell in time with the increase of her heart rate. As Amelia turned her attention to Gretchen, she picked up on how her eyes lit up. Amelia, by no means, wished to take attention away from her sister, and Gretchen appeared as though she was fixing to do or say something. Amelia had always known that Gretchen would come into her own when she was ready. Perhaps now was that time.

Gretchen crossed the room, feeling herself begin to tremble from the inside and wondered if it showed. Dib seemed to pay no mind to it, however, and offered her a warm smile nonetheless. Was Gretchen doing this for her or for Amelia?

"Good evening, miss, I…I wondered if I'd see you again." He leaned down, as instructed by Laurent on how to properly greet and court a lady. He kissed the back of her hand. Hers was soft and warm.

"I wondered much of the same," she replied in barely above a whisper.

"I hear there will be a dance later this evening," the thick accent of Porter rang as he took hold of Angelica and pulled her to him with a grin. The Ryder daughter slinked out of his hold, glancing nervously back at her father as it seemed less than appropriate.

"A dance?" Dib repeated. He knew a little to few steps, perhaps he would have an opportunity to meet both of the sisters and apologize to the one called Amelia.

"Settle down," General Membrane provided a stern look towards the rowdy officers. He felt like a father scolding his naughty children.

"Yes, sir."

Jacob glanced from Membrane to the young man kissing the back of his second eldest hand. He eyed this transaction approvingly as Gretchen raised the back of her hand to her mouth to conceal her reaction. Her eyes jetted back to her sister, who waved for her to go on. However, Dib's trailed and lingered back to the other sister.

"You know, John. I can't help but wonder before we settle down to dinner."

"And what might that be, my old friend?"

"The boy is a stamp of you. Perhaps it is wine and I am in fact seeing two of you, but, didn't you mention there was a woman before your current wife now?"

Membrane straightened at this and glanced over to Dib. If that was the case, it had been years since he had laid eyes on them, and if the boy was his, then his sibling was, as well. Fate had a funny way of bringing what was meant to be before someone.

Perhaps there was a reason why he had chosen him to be his right hand man, aside from the bravery he had shown and the desire to protect him. The boy had a hungry fighting spirit, but Membrane had other intentions which included his safety. Perhaps the boy was also aroused to suspicion, as he often looked at the man with a cold stare, puzzled, attempting to answer questions for himself.

"I'd prefer to not speak of it."

This elicited a frown upon Ryder's lips. A boy had every right to his father.


	5. Winter's Helpless Part Two

Hey guys! Thank you for your reviews. By the way, did you enjoy your holidays?

So, yes, I'm back the very next day with the exciting part two to Winter's Helpless. I couldn't wait to finish this up, and I'm actually satisfied with how this turned out.

So, the idea that I had in mind pertaining to Membrane and Dib, especially, was during "Stay Alive" (which is coming up soon), when Washington calls Hamilton "son" and Hamilton spits back at him that he is not his son. That's going to be pretty strong, so, the father/son/daughter aspect will be touched upon again really soon. I'm intrigued to see how this will pan out, as well.

One of the couples, yes, will be Zim and Gaz for Burr and Theodosia. I've been reading up on a lot of interviews with Jhonen who said he would have paired Zim and Gaz together, and after watching several ZAGR videos on YouTube (a lot of the videos were done with Skillet songs, which I love Skillet. Made me so happy) I'm riding the train in this fic. But, the dialogue between the two felt natural, so yay!

* * *

 **Chapter Five- Helpless Part 2**

Just as dinner had ended, the remainder of the guests arrived. Political gains, men with fortunes, people with whom Jacob Ryder could relate to. The plates were taken away and all guests were escorted from the dining room and back into the parlor. Angelica took her place at the piano, her bun following her head as she swayed with the music emitting from her fingers against the ivory keys.

"Such beautiful music," Skoodge admired.

"And she's only fourteen years old."

"Only that young? I was tossing knives at fourteen weeks," Zim snitted, which caused the Ryder senior to look at the young man skeptically.

"I apologize for his behavior, Mr. Ryder, my friend is in poor spirits this evening."

"I hope a little dancing will lighten the mood, then," Jacob replied to Skoodge. "Or perhaps some spirits?"

"I believe spirits will do more harm than good in his state," Skoodge quickly replied. It was enough many eyed their dishes, which had been untouched—human food poisonous among the Irkens. They didn't wish to show disrespect, however, they declined as politely as they were able. Zim's anxiety of human food and the dangers it caused nearly led to an outburst, one Dib's sister found amusing.

"He has a number of allergies, Mr. Ryder. There is no means of disrespect to your home." Dib chimed in, which caused Zim to tense. He didn't need Dib saving him. He had already done enough.

"I don't need you to come to my aid, Dib stink!" Zim spat. "Zim can defend himself."

"Come on, Zim, why don't we go outside for some fresh air," Skoodge attempted to move his friend from where he sat. Zim smacked the other's hand away and stalked out of the room, stomping his feet along the way.

"Mr. Ryder, I apologize for my friend."

"It's quite alright. His palate is unaccustomed to such rich food. I completely understand." Although, as Mr. Ryder uttered such, Dib took notice that Zim hardly ate at all, swirling his fork around in the mess hall and again around the campfire. Rations were hard to come by, as was clean water and Zim consumed, it seemed, neither. Back at the office, he never would have noticed, as Dib remained in the back. But out in the open, Zim displayed peculiar habits.

One crucial detail stuck out to Dib's mind: he never bathed with the other men. As it was that some men were simply shy; but come to think of it, Skoodge and Madge didn't bathe, either. It was some secret men's club that they bathed together, yet separate from the rest of the group. Rumors did spread, but lasted shortly.

"Dib, do not occupy your mind on Zim. I've noticed you seem…distracted," Laurent commented as he approached the other with a glass of port wine in hand.

"I guess I just feel a little guilty," Dib half lied. He couldn't reveal himself and his intentions just yet. He had begun to establish a small group of friends and he didn't want to lose them because of his beliefs.

"Nonsense, General Membrane chose you over everyone to be his aide-de-camp, which is truly an honor," Laurent replied. "No one should pass an opportunity like that up. Besides, Dib, you're amazing, and I mean that."

Dib swirled his drink around in his glass, looking away from Laurent to see the two sisters again from the other side of the room.

"You know what? Thanks, Laurent. I really appreciate you saying that." He took a hearty swig of his drink for confidence. "I'm going to do something I should have a long time ago." It had to all be in his head, these notions of Zim. He had no concrete proof to just start babbling about aliens, or ghosts. However, he did have a reasonable excuse to not like Zim because Zim was alone with his sister.

"And what might that be?" Laurent inquired with a slight frown.

"I'm going to go talk to the Ryder sisters."

Handing his drink to Laurent, he proceeded to cross the room. Gretchen was a handsome woman in herself, he also wanted to get to know Amelia.

"Don't blow it," Gaz said audibly as she stood beside Laurent and looked up at her brother's friend. "He's going to fuck it up, isn't he?" However, Laurent didn't reply.

Startled, Gretchen nearly spilled her drink, squeaking in the process to enunciate what she was feeling before settling herself down. She had only a few moments alone with Dib, and he had kissed her hand. He was a gentleman, that was the first fact she noted.

"Ladies, it's a pleasure to see you again in better circumstances." He bowed to them. Amelia felt her heart light up again in her chest.

"The pleasure is ours," Amelia replied, her tone soft and threading the words together eloquently. "We've inquired whether or not we would make acquaintance again."

"Have you?" His eyes widened gently, feeling the familiar burn in his cheeks. He was tempted to feel them for effect.

"Allow me to introduce ourselves. That is my sister Gretchen. My name is Amelia."

Dib reached for her hand the same way he had with Gretchen. Soft, yet worked hands. Perhaps with a sewing needle, or other work, but these were hands that busied themselves. He pressed his lips to the back of one, hearing the audible hitch in her breath which caused Dib to shiver lightly. Slowly, he took his time lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Gretchen watched this still. He hung in that stance for some time to savor her ladyship. Somehow, that disturbed Gretchen and riled up a spark of jealousy she never wanted to experience. Furthermore, she did not want to fight against her sister. If Gretchen were to tell Amelia that she, too, was interested in him, Amelia would bow down and make room for her. As much as part of her wished to and wanted that to happen, she didn't.

"A pleasure, Ms. Amelia."

"Just Amelia," she breathed.

"Tell us a little about yourself, Mr. Dib?"

"There isn't much to say," Dib retorted.

The young woman blinked slowly, "everyone has a story that should be told," Amelia followed up.

"Mine is a story still being written. Just you wait, Madame, there is so much I have yet to accomplish."

"You speak French? My sister is quite fluent in French."

"And you?"

"I speak very little, but I am always willing to learn. Languages came easy to Gretchen, isn't that right?"

Gretchen nodded in reply, struggling for the right words to say. "I've-I've studied for many years under a great tutor."

"It's nice to be in the company of learned women," Dib said with a smile.

"Where is your family from, then, if you hadn't a tutor?" Gretchen piped up.

Dib hesitated before replying to the women that his origins were unimportant. What was important was that he was in their company in the present. The past was nowhere to look back on, as he had nothing left there. Gretchen took a sip of her beverage before considering that fact number two insisted he was poor, otherwise he wouldn't hesitate in admitting his family history, or his origins. A clean cover.

Dib took another swig of drink as rounds were poured from Jacob Ryder's private stash. He felt more comfortable, laughing now and forgetting Zim for a moment's passing. Gretchen glanced between her sister and Dib as their eyes appeared fixed into one another's.

"Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a moment. I think I hear mother calling," she said briskly before her steps followed her pace to exit.

Dib watched Gretchen leave before offering her a wave, whether or not she saw it. He looked back at Amelia, sloshing the drink around in his glass. He felt looser, as what the wine was supposed to do and he was thankful for it. Dionysius was looking out for him this evening.

He could feel himself preparing to stutter, "I-I know this is going to sound like a crazy question."

"There is no such thing," Amelia assured. "For that is how we learn."

Dib felt his cheeks redden. He was uncertain what came over him to ask the following question, but it fell from his lips before he could over think it.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" It was certainly more plausible than aliens, his mind rationalized. This was a test to see if they were compatible. Dib was uncertain if he could find himself attracted to anyone who didn't believe, at least, a little.

Amelia expected a topic of the war, for that was on her list of questions to bring up to make better conversation. But ghosts? How did she respond to such a question? Then, something came to mind which would answer his question nicely.

"Actually, I saw my grandmother, Lily, after she passed on. It had to be a week after the funeral. My sister Sandra laughed at me for weeks because she couldn't see her, but my brother Joshua saw her, as well. She was wearing a gingham gown, her hair in a messy bun, and it was all so transparent. But, I could see every detail of her apron, the tiny rosebuds. The room, when she came to me, smelled like warm cookies. She always loved to bake, and she loved all of us so much."

Dib listened to her, and felt a longing of relief well up inside of him. She believed.

"How did it make you feel?" Dib asked.

"I wasn't scared, if that's what you mean. Although, I hear there are spirits who are malevolent. Some spirits, like some people, are out to do bad."

"I completely agree, Amelia," Dib replied with a smile as he clinked his glass against hers. "I believe in the paranormal, if you can believe that." He chuckled.

"I believe there is other life out there. If there are ghosts, who knows what else exists. But, I feel ghosts may very well be the extent of it."

"Before I lose my nerve, Ms. Amelia, may I call on you sometime?"

The glass nearly fell out of her hands. They hadn't been acquainted for that long, and already he wished to write to her? Amelia glanced towards the other women in the room, extending her arm towards the crowd in the room to exemplify her point; however, felt Dib pull her right back in. He knew what she was to say before she even said it.

"I'm not looking at the other women." Amelia felt her knees buckle beneath her as she swooned.

* * *

"I am not your ward, Laurent," Gaz snapped as she wrenched her arm from the others hold, finally sickened at the prospect of being watched over. Although Laurent didn't put up too much of a fight as his eyes lingered on Dib and the eldest Ryder daughter.

"So, he finally struck up the nerve to talk to a girl? I wonder where he got his balls from," she continued to huff in displeasure.

"Your brother has had them all along," Laurent replied vapidly. "Your brother is an amazing man, Gazlene. You don't give him nearly enough credit to try."

Laurent couldn't help but feel his own sense of longing as Dib engaged himself with the young woman. Since he met the young man, he had grown and began to unfurl into his own being. That is where he had gained this confidence from, he was given the chance to. But, now, Laurent couldn't help but feel this was the consequence he would be dealt with: losing the only man he ever cared for.

Gaz shook her head and left Laurent be. The man seemed to be wallowing within himself as she walked out of the room, passing the other Ryder sister who seemed to be writhing within herself. Was her brother that big of a deal? She certainly didn't think so. Gaz continued to press forward towards the outside of the house, wiping the sheen of sweat that had begun to develop on her brow. She saw the man her brother was always at odds with, the soldier who was talking about the painting with her.

"Zim, is it?"

His hair seemed to be askew as Zim continued to scratch at it.

"What's your problem?"

"This stupid, ugh! Curse this stupid hair piece thing!"

"Hair piece?" Gaz inquired. Zim jumped when he realized it wasn't Madge or Skoodge behind him, but the Dib's sister. Gaz said nothing, but took a seat beside Zim and looked out towards the skyline, up at the moon.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be inside with the other puffy gowns of doom?"

"I'd rather have a tooth extracted," Gaz murmured her reply, expressing further disdain for this party. "Would it be alright if I stayed out here with you? My annoying brother is too occupied at the moment to realize I'm gone. I finally have a moment to breathe."

Zim was quiet, uncertain if this was the right thing to do. However, he wanted her to stay. He didn't have an episode because he wanted her near. He froze when Gaz adjusted his hair piece, her body turned from the direction of the moon to Zim. He glanced over at her, initially jerking himself to whip her away in defense as she was close to exposing him. He could feel his antennae itch to be free, and her fingers hovered above them as she fixed his wig. He felt them twitch the more she appeared unafraid.

Instead of jerking, he simply moved away. "Eh…thank you." The application of gratitude was awkward on his tongue. But, she appeared satisfied, so, he figured he had done the right thing.

"You really hate your brother, don't you?" Zim asked.

"I can tell you hold a torch for his demise, as well," Gaz replied. "He's not a likeable person."

"His head is big."

"No argument there. A big head with nothing in it. Genetics is a bitch."

Zim found himself laughing at that. She was a curious creature, this Gaz, and smart. Many attractive qualities that an Irken desired in a strong mate. He found himself staring at her, bearing his own internal struggle. She was the perfect candidate, a far better match for Zim than Tenn or any of the other Irken females that were on this mission. But, she was also a human; the very race Zim seemed to dominate.

However, as future ruler of this planet, he had the right to take a queen and as many concubines as he desired. Zim had his pick of any of them, but right now, he was only looking at one. And the very first thing they had in common: they both equally hated Dib. Zim couldn't tell at this rate who hated him more and it was a thrill to find that out. It could have been like a game for them.

"Genetics is a funny thing, isn't it?" Zim murmured. He was the product of genetics and birthed by a cold robot arm. If Zim had parents, he didn't know who they were. He never gave much thought to offspring before, but if he had them, well, he would be better than some cold, unfeeling robot arm.

"Genetics made me related to him. He treats me like a little girl who can't hold her own."

"What about your life givers?"

"Life givers? You mean my parents? I don't know who our father was. Our mother died, and wasn't much of a mother after our father left. Hard to when everything was taken from you, which is why I've made it a point—a deliberate point—to not rely on anyone. My brother has tried to marry me off I don't know how many times, the weasel. I feel caged."

"He sounds like a rotten, disfigured weasel who barely deserves to live," Zim mused.

Gaz withheld her laughter. "You got that right," however, she snorted to suppress.

Zim took in much of what she said. She had no desire to marry and be tied down. He automatically registered that as a challenge, and one he was happy to accept. Court the Gaz, hurt the Dib because that is his younger sister, and then destroy the Dib.

"It's nice to meet someone else who hates him."

"It is as you have said. It isn't hard to hate him."

"You want to get out of here?" Gaz turned her head to Zim. Gaz no longer had the affinity to keep up any kind of ladylike attitude, if she possessed any of it left. She looked like one, she was treated like one until someone received a scowl from her. She didn't know where they would go, but she just wanted to distance herself from the house.

Zim looked back and over his shoulder. He would be leaving Madge and Skoodge behind, but he felt as though he deserved this little shred of victory as he plotted. Zim, however, had no idea what he was in store for with this young woman, or that the tables would eventually turn on him. Could Irkens love? Or were they as cold as the unfeeling robot arm? There was only one way to find out.

"Lead the way, Little Gaz."


	6. Helpless Letters

Hey! Okay, so, a chapter dedicated to the courtship of Zim/Gaz and Dib/Amelia. A series of letters, and a slip of the tongue via a jealous friend. Could cause big trouble for Zim.

I also apologize if this seems all over the place. I hope it makes sense to you guys. And I'm correcting myself, the father/son dynamic won't be revisited until "Meet Me Inside."

After this chapter, we should be back on track with "Satisfied". I just wanted to dedicate a chapter to the courtship (I didn't want to jump right into the marriage) and Dib's progression in his investigation on his suspicions of Zim. A little ZAGR fluff awaits! Enjoy, and as always, please leave those encouraging reviews, thank you!

* * *

 **Chapter Six- Helpless Letters**

"Dear Gaz,

I write to you this evening to request to see you again. Our rendezvous was quite memorable and I desire more. When I return from battle, I wish to continue to see you, and it will be glorious because I am amazing. You should feel honored to be contacted by ZIM to forgo this magical lust ride.

Yours, Zim."

* * *

"Dearest Amelia,

Meeting you has been an experience I shall not forget. I feel at ease with you, something I haven't been able to admit in a long time. I hope to see you again, and I hope to see you soon. You are never far from my thoughts, and I hope the same can be said on your end. I'm at ease with you. Although, admittedly, I am new to courting. Yet, I strongly doubt striking you in the marketplace would be appropriate as a courting initiation. Allow me to make it up to you when I see you next?

Always yours, Dib."

* * *

The letters came accordingly, exactly one week after the meet. Both men were to set off for the field again, but they didn't want to leave before sending these ladies their letters to express. Jacob Ryder had insisted Membrane's children station with his family. Finding Membrane's actions unfavorable, even sober, Ryder could see—any blind man could see for that fact that Dib and Gazlene were his friend's children. However, that was a matter for John Membrane to settle. Yet, that didn't mean he couldn't extend a fatherly arm to the young man and woman.

Gaz was less than delighted with the idea of being cooped up in the large estate with the other puffy gowns, a four-year-old, and a baby on the way. In fact, Gaz was sitting in her room, which was one of the guest rooms, decorated simply and offered by Nancy to be decorated any way she wished. To Gaz, that meant that decorating this room and being in this house was an extended stay and she wasn't having any of that. Currently, her mind was at ease as she read the letter from Zim, set in her mind to escape during the night to meet him where he requested. She relished in the thick paper between her fingers, finding relief in Zim's letter to her. Someone who understood her, who was a little quirky, and she never received a letter that wasn't an eviction notice. She considered that kind of nice.

Amelia sat in the tea parlor with her letter, Gretchen carrying a tray as she eyed her sister. "From Dib?" Gretchen inquired. The smile on her sister's face answered her without Amelia verbally replying.

"He says I'm never far from his thoughts," she sighed happily.

"I'm sure you're not the first he's said that to," Gretchen retorted, causing her sister's smile to vanish. Was it from jealousy? But, there was some truth behind her words.

"Amelia, I know you're excited. But…" Gretchen paused to measure all of the information she had gathered. He was a penniless soldier courting a wealthy young woman. The pieces fit where they counted. Was he handsome? Undoubtedly so. His smile beheld enough charm to court a harem.

"But what?"

Gretchen could hear the defense laced in Amelia's tone as her words were sharp.

"He's the type of man who will do what it takes to survive."

"It's a ruthless world out there," Amelia reasoned, settling the letter down upon her lap to show she was well aware of what her sister was implying. "But, I've never felt this way before, Gretchen. No man has ever ignited this feeling inside of me, and we've encountered our share to form an army of their own, an army gaggle of suitors. I'll take caution, but I don't sense fear. I don't fear these feelings for him, and I believe he is genuine towards me. He needs a chance."

She was afraid of those words, but couldn't stop the process from happening as the letters kept coming. When she was alone with her thoughts, Amelia snuck away into the kitchen to pen another letter.

"My Dearest Dib,

I long to see you again. I miss you. I think of you often, as that fateful day in the marketplace revisits me in my dreams. It was the invitation to our meeting, and I regret none of it. I wear that dress now fondly. As new as all of this is for you, it is the same for me. I look forward to learning more about one another. Do not feel obligated to make anything up to me, seeing you again has allowed us to embark on this journey together. However, if you truly feel you must, return to me whole so I may look into those eyes again. Until then.

Yours, Amelia."

* * *

"Zim,

Have you found a way to annihilate my brother, yet? Perhaps try applying gunpowder to his morning coffee. Ever since encountering you, and since your departure, I feel lonesome. I…don't exactly like this feeling, so please hurry back. I don't know if I could knit another scarf without wrapping it around one of their necks. When you return, we shall resume.

-Gaz."

* * *

Zim's lips curled into a grin as he received the letter, away from her, listening to General Membrane bark orders to Dib as his quill scratched along the paper as he wrote them down. He could see the silhouette from the tent in the candlelight. Zim reached behind him and tapped his PAK, retrieving a quill and inkwell to reply to her. She was truly unique, and worth fighting for. That was something Zim was never able to process, a worthy individual of Zim's time and feelings. It was a new type of excitement.

"Little Gaz,

Do not allow the impending darkness to swallow you, yet. I shall return before you know it. We shall resume with much vigor.

-Zim."

* * *

When Dib had a moment alone, he sat back in his seat as the General slumbered. The wax had almost melted from its wear, and he normally judged his work time based on how much candlelight he had. Having finished early that evening, Dib decided to indulge and reread Amelia's letter again. He had so much to discuss with her, so much about the paranormal and getting to know her better. He managed to secure a better lodging for Gaz, and one he didn't have to pour a paycheck into. Perhaps Mr. Ryder was doing that on the off chance he and his daughter did marry so that they could save up for a residence of their own. It was much to process, the idea of having a house, a wife, some children; ideas he never believed could fall into fruition. Before the wax completely melted, he dipped the quill into the inkwell and penned another letter. After he thought about it, he really did want to see her again.

"Dearest Amelia,

I'm considering asking General Membrane for some time off to come see you. All I seem to do is imagine your face, and I take that as a sign to come to you and hold you in my arms. This seems odd for me to say, but I feel I can pen this to you—my feelings. I wish to return to you so that I may do more than look into your eyes.

Ever yours, Dib."

* * *

He sealed the letter, prepared to send it out in the morning as he looked down at it gently. With the letter hanging at his side, he proceeded to withdraw from the tent as the candle fizzled out and walked towards his own.

Zim turned the letter in his hand, studying the curves of her cursive and compared them to her own supple curves. Madge peered over to Zim occasionally, his false brows knitting together in concern. He tilted back in his seat, playing devil's advocate on whether or not the chair would ultimately tip over as Zim appeared balanced, yet distracted. Tapping his own PAK, one of Madge's spider legs withdrew and caused the chair to tip over, taking Zim down with it.

Zim cursed and tossed a boot at Madge, only for Madge to evade the book and then gave him a look that read volumes. Less distraction, more focus on the mission.

"One more time, Madge," he said warningly.

"Read that letter one more time as opposed to mapping out plans," Madge challenged, watching Zim relent with a glare, hiding the letter inside his PAK.

"What letter? You know, you're awfully nosy."

"What letter? As if I'm stupid. I'm simply observing the quite and obvious. The _human_ you're having a love affair with," Madge nearly growled. Zim's eyes narrowed upon defense of Gaz. He was honestly somewhat startled upon defending her.

"Mind your own, Madge. Before we settle this like Irken soldiers do."

"And risk exposure? You're a fool, Zim. You're without sense. You want to kill the humans, and now you love the humans. Pick one and stick with it. I witnessed you leave the party with the pale faced woman, clearly not an Irken in disguise. You allowed your defenses to be lowered. Do you not realize what this could cost us!?"

Dib heard yelling from several tents away from his own, pausing, listening to see if it required interjection or intervention. He crept cautiously towards the tent. The heads of Joshua and Alexander popped out from their tent, Dib motioned for them to go back inside. If this was something that could be settled through words, then he would leave it be. Otherwise, he would be recruiting Joshua, Alexander, and Laurent before waking the General.

It seemed Zim lacked a reasonable response, which lied within his hesitation. "And you do not realize the GENIUS in this plan. Lower the humans' defenses so then we may sink ourselves into them-"

"NOT through copulation, you MORON!" Madge hollered. Zim's blood began to boil. How he managed to find that out was beyond him, unless he was followed by something or someone.

As Dib neared the tent, he heard the enunciated key words and clung close by. The shouts came from Zim's tent, and it seemed the other voice belonged to his friend, Madge.

"For someone so fearful of exposure, you're doing a fantastic job of doing the opposite! Who's to say the human won't turn against you!?"

Zim balked. "She would never."

"Because your goddamn squeedlyspooch told you!?"

What in all of creation was a squeedlyspooch? Dib frowned and listened further in. This just supported his speculation of the trio. From the first night he laid eyes on them, he knew something was amiss. Dib crouched down when he heard Zim growl in displeasure and swing the tent flap open, striking Dib and knocking him over onto the dirt.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Zim groaned. "Who's there?"

Although Dib kept quiet. No one had yet shined a candle on him, he crept backward on his hands and knees, heart racing.

"Reveal yourself to ZIM!"

"If you do not control your voice, soldier, I will reveal myself to you and I have doubts you want that!" General Membrane called from his tent. "Lights out!"

"Heed my warning now," Zim's voice dimmed to a growl. "I will find out who you are. I have ways of knowing. Let this be the last peaceful sleep you ever know."

Dib blinked, remaining still. The more he moved, the more noise he made with his body shuffling against the dirt. Scrambling away was out of the question. If that didn't raise any red flags, he was uncertain what would.

* * *

"Gaz, I thought we could take a walk in the garden," Amelia offered, knocking upon the other woman's door. She wanted Gaz to feel welcomed in their home, understanding how trying it could be, and especially in a stranger's home. So, on a particularly bright afternoon, Amelia thought it would be a good idea to arrange something special.

"So what? We can sing a washwoman's tune and knit scarves for the less fortunate?" She replied behind the closed door.

Amelia placed her palm to the door and shook her head. "Not quite. I was thinking we can take lunch outside, spend some time together. Maybe talk?"

"Is anyone else looking to join us?"

"Not if you don't want there to be," Amelia replied. "It can be just you and me."

Silence came from the other end, Amelia pressing her ear to the door before hearing the familiar creak of the bed, feet padding along the wooden flooring. She stepped backwards as the door opened, women meeting eye to eye. Amelia stood firm, knowing this intimidation tactic to be a thing of the young woman to scare others into submission.

"Look, if you think this is going to be a session, I talk about my problems and then cry, you're mistaken."

"Why don't you stop assuming and see for yourself?" Amelia's tone was firm to match Gaz's.

"Perhaps you're not all sunflowers and puffy gowns," Gaz murmured, gesturing for Amelia to guide the way to where she had in mind for their luncheon.

"Puffy gowns?" Amelia inquired, walking along the hallway, matching the pace of the other.

The house was quiet, her mother had taken her daughters into town for a walk of their own. Amelia remained behind to try to warm Gaz up. She heard the gentle clinking of their silverware and plates as the servants polished them and put them away. But, if there was one sound that Amelia registered, it was the rumble of hooves against the dirt. She had registered that sound ever since she was a little girl and her father was a General. Her ears were trained to detect when her father would near, that meant he survived another battle.

"What's that sound?"

"Horses," Amelia said, glancing back at Gaz, her hair swirling around her as she descended the staircase.

"Hurry Gaz, I believe our brothers have surprised us home." Her smile radiated as Gaz remained at the top of the staircase to see if she was on target. That would mean Zim would be with them, as they all managed to travel together. Gaz knew Zim did it for her, otherwise, he would have disappeared. Well, at least this got her out of yet another Ryder family adventure.

His hair was windswept by the horseback ride, but Dib dismounted his horse and petted it, Joshua and Alexander following Dib's lead. They would guide the horses into the rear stables for rest and water. Zim trotted behind them, making an entrance as Amelia stepped outside to greet them. Dib wanted to keep Zim close for a little while longer.

"I knew it was you!" Her face lit up as Dib laid eyes on her and opened his arms as she ran into them, caring not about the dirt that clung to his jacket. Dib tightened his arms around her, holding her to him as he leaned down to kiss the top of her hair, smelling the oils she used to compliment her.

"I thought I'd come surprise you," Dib said as he separated them, so he could look down at her gingerly. That, and he wanted to talk to her about what he had heard a few nights prior if and or when they had time alone, or when they could manage to sneak it.

Zim dismounted the beast grumpily, glancing around for something or someone. He sought for Gaz, and verbally announcing who he sought would give everything away.

"Mr. Zim, it's a pleasure to see you again. Would you like to come inside?" Amelia said, turning her head towards the other. His complexion appeared less than healthy and her face dropped. "Goodness, are you catching ill? Please, come right inside. I'll get you something warm to drink. Where are my brothers?"

Zim was cut off by Dib, as Zim had opened his mouth to snappily reply, Dib intervened. That seemed to be an annoying habit of his.

"They're safe and well. They're settling the horses to rest," Dib assured her. I told them to come meet us inside when they're finished. Is everyone home?"

"Mother took the others into town and father is having a meeting with the other delegates. They should all be around later this evening for supper."

Her response was satisfactory as he nodded. He'd be able to have her alone to talk about important matters.

"But, you must come inside. I was just about to have lunch with your sister." Upon hearing of Gaz, Zim turned his head towards Amelia. "Mr. Zim, you don't look well at all. Positively green!"

Dib rubbed her forearms as she expressed her distress towards the other. He acknowledged Zim's greener complexion, but he didn't take it to be that of illness. It was no flicker this time, he was losing his peachy tone without his friend Madge at his side. Zim would never allow her to see him sweat, but Dib knew he was as uncomfortable as he looked. Yet, somehow, no one but Dib seemed to pay it any mind.

"Yes, Zim, you look positively sickly. Perhaps you should see a medic."

"I'll be fine, Dib stink. I'm certain it's from the ride here."

"Really?" Dib challenged. "You've never been sick on horseback before."

Amelia's voice was on Gaz's nerves. She stepped outside to hear the others and see for herself what the fuss was about, Zim's green hue caused Gaz to take initiative. Zim laid eyes on the other, his tense shoulders dropping. He even looked, dare he admit it, relieved.

"I'll run a bath," Gaz said flatly, which caused Dib to jerk his head in his sister's direction. No hello, no hug. He shouldn't have expected one, but, at least she was safe and well.

Seeing the look of hurt in his eyes, Amelia decided to vocalize, "Gaz, don't you have anything to say to your brother?"

"He's here."

"And he's knocking on death's door," Zim grumbled, following Gaz inside, glaring towards the outside of the home.

Amelia frowned as she watched the other woman escort Zim inside before she shivered. Spring was rounding the bend, but the winter chill still threatened to hang in the air. Dib looked down at Amelia before ushering her inside.

"You'll catch cold."

"And now you're here to warm me up," she allowed the words to tease on her lips as she smiled. Dib chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, walking up the stairs and closing the door behind him as the couple lingered in the foyer.

"Amelia, I need to talk to you when we have a moment. I don't have long to stay, I'm afraid. Maybe a night or so before we head back out. But, I needed to see you, letters weren't enough.  
He cupped her cheek. "I've missed you dearly, but, I need to talk to you, though. Do you remember when we discussed the paranormal?"

Amelia shook her head, although closed her hand over his. "Dib, slow down. You're going way too fast. Take your time."

"That's just it. There isn't much of it. I have one question for you," Dib swallowed.

"And what question might that be?"

"Do you know what a squeedlyspooch is?" Dib inquired. The perplexed look from Amelia was enough to cause Dib to shake his head.

"Exactly."


	7. The Story of Being Satisfied

Happy News Years Eve, everyone! I hope you all celebrate safely tonight!

Another packed chapter. We meet Membrane's wife, and her longings. She knows about John's paternity to the children, but she doesn't find herself mad at it. I'm also sure you ZAGR fans will be definitely satisfied with this! I'm trying to loosely follow the Burr/Theodosia line with Zim and Gaz.

I hope this doesn't seem too rushed.

And am I to understand Zim'sMostLoyalServant is having a birthday? If so, Happy Birthday!

* * *

 **Chapter Seven- Satisfied/The Story of Tonight**

For the few days Dib had spent with Amelia in Ryder Hall, the name of the family's house, Amelia looked through many of her father's thick books. Dib often snuck up on her from behind and placed his hands affectionately on her hips. They were often supervised by Gretchen, upon her return from market, but Gretchen couldn't bear to look in their direction and busied herself, thankful they had chosen their father's library to conduct such research.

"Dib, I've poured through these books I feel like hundreds of times over," Amelia said with a frown as she flipped through another. "There is no such term as a squeedlyspooch. Have you thought to ask General Membrane about his private library? I'm certain his wife, Martha, will allow you…" Her voice trailed off when she felt his hands tighten on her hips. Feeling as though she had said something out of place, she cleared her throat and turned around to face him.

"I've spent some time with the General's wife. I've taken tea with her last month. The General has nothing but high praise for you. Dib, if only-"

"I know where this is leading to, Amelia. And I refuse to admit kinship to that man."

"This could be the answer you're looking for. You've written to me before about your lack of parentage and how thankful you were and are towards mine for taking you and Gaz in. But, what if-"

"Amelia-"

"Please stop interrupting me," she asked softly, keeping mindful to be sensitive towards this topic, as her father often reminded her. Her mother, as well, reminded her to be mindful.

"General Membrane and you have undeniable facial features. There is relation somewhere. If not a son, then a nephew. Kinship is present, Dib."

Dib turned away from her and huffed. "There is only two people I consider family in this world. Our mother passed away. Our father left her high and dry, he left his two children behind. How can I forgive that? My mother never looked at me the same way again. She loved me, I know she did, but her eyes lost her light for me after he abandoned us. The other person is Gaz, despite her hating me for looking out for her and wanting the best for her. I know what she thinks of me. She rebels and does things for spite."

"I've taken thought to that, as well, Dib. But, perhaps that is because you are all she has left and she feels you were trying to do what your father did to you both. Just like you, she's been abandoned, and then there's the only person she has left wanting to toss her onto someone else. Try seeing her anger that way."

Her eyes were pleading, Dib felt those eyes on him and turned around to face her. Perhaps there was some truth to what she said, it was logical, and made sense. Though he had no obvious intent to hurt his sister, he could see it from that perspective.

"Your sister does little things to show that she cares. I promise, have patience with her. Your letters weave a sad story, and I know they weren't seeking sympathy or pity. Your letters also show promise. Not all hope is lost, I promise you."

Amelia knew she was treading on thin ice, but she had one more thing to mention before her piece was complete. Dib brought his eyes down, which dimmed Amelia to silence. She reached her hand out to chuck beneath his chin and bring him back to eye level. She greeted him with a warm, encouraging smile. It was risky, but if there was an opportunity to save and reconnect a family, then it would all be worth it.

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes, pricking and bubbling, threatening to spill. She kept quiet in order for this man to piece together his thoughts. In one swift, fluid motion, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. His body began to quake and tremble, only allowing her to see the masculine tears that should never be shed. He was a broken man who needed glue to put him back together.

"Dib…"

His voice was thick from the tightness in his throat. "Amelia, I need you to know something else." He swallowed. "Back home there was a woman I would have married. Her name was Jessica. I thought I could have considered her family, as well, but…" All of the memories came flooding back. "She started the collection to send me and Gaz out of St. Spooky. She then broke things off, telling me there was no future for us."

Amelia simply stroked the back of his head as he let everything out that he didn't put into his letters. He was releasing this information now after having gained the other's trust.

"And she was right. Back in St. Spooky, it was desolate and no place to raise a family. Too many memories, too much sadness. I…I promised myself I would make a home for myself wherever I wound up next. I would do whatever it took to make it happen. And then I met you…"

"And have you?" Amelia asked.

"With you. Marry me, Amelia. I'll speak to your father, but know I have every intention of making you my bride. I'm sorry, I could have put that better…" he laughed sheepishly, his tears beginning to dry up as tears then clung in her eyes, leaning upward to kiss him gently.

"Like you're running out of time. My love, we have all of the time in the world. I relish in nothing more than the thought of being your wife." Now Amelia laughed through her tears and kissed him again. Neither heard the cries of despair from behind the bookcase.

Dib had opened up to her and ended his story with offering her to be the next chapter in the story of his life, more than a woman he was courting for the past few months and mainly through the course of letters. Now, as his intended, the woman who would put his pieces together. Perhaps, for now, he neglected the subject of General Membrane as his father and replaced it with starting a family with her. It would soon be broached again, as these things had a tendency to tie themselves together.

Dib departed the following morning to return to camp. Joshua embracing his sister warmly at the news she shared with him. Although, the final blessing came from her father.

"He's a sweet boy with a lot of potential," Nancy said as she mended one of Alexander's socks. Alexander and Joshua would return to camp the following day. Dib had to leave first because he was the General's aide-de-camp.

"Mother, he loves me. And I love him, was this not what father wanted?" Amelia asked almost desperately.

"Yes, he did. With the right man who can help provide for you and your future family. Your father only has the best intentions for you. Do you really feel that Dib is the right man for you?"

Without hesitation, Amelia replied, "I do."

Nancy frowned gently and glanced over at the bassinet that gurgled and cooed, awake and sounded in soon need of a feeding as her breasts began to ache. "I shall talk to your father further about this."

Amelia frowned softly. After that, not much had been said about the subject. Dib's letters advised her to be hopeful and not to lose faith. He had been writing to her father, as well. But, it didn't seem like it was Jacob who needed the convincing. Jacob was rather fond of Dib, accepted him and welcomed him as a member of his own family. He embraced the other and engaged in long political discussion.

Amelia knew Dib's passion lied in a topic aside from politics. Always, in his letters, he asked if she managed to find anything in any human textbook describing a squeedlyspooch. Amelia would just have to do what Dib wouldn't do and pay a visit to Martha Membrane herself. She admired the older woman, and Mrs. Membrane seemed to enjoy Amelia's company. While Amelia believed in the paranormal, she didn't know if she could produce as well as Dib expected of her; but she would try.

* * *

While she waited on an answer upon their blessing, she took a carriage out to see Martha Membrane. Their home was a moderate estate, humble, yet prominent. It was the house that read a powerful couple lived inside. Martha was unable to provide children for John, but that didn't seem to stop John from loving or caring for her. Quite the contrary, Martha was very well cared for.

Her dark hair possessed streaks of gray. Her eyes reminded Amelia of warm caramels, and those eyes created a sense of peace along with the roundness of her face. Overall, she appeared like a comforting woman. Embracing Amelia, she escorted the other inside, offering her tea or lunch. Not that she pushed food, but Amelia could tell she should have been a mother. Some just possess that maternal instinct, and Martha's was on overdrive.

"How is Dib faring? John tells me he's been standoffish again," Martha said as the women took tea in the parlor.

Anxious to see the library, Amelia took a seat upon the other's insistence. After all, she was in the home of the most powerful man to date. She had to show courtesy. "Dib has extended a proposal of marriage to me," she said with a smile, placing the teacup to her lips as Martha's eyes lit up. Once Amelia placed down the cup, Martha took her hands into her own.

"My child, what wonderful, happy news, indeed! Your parents must be ecstatic."

"My family is still mulling things over. I believe my father is anxious in spirit to give his little girl away."

"Ahh, that explains his forlorn nature," Martha sighed. "I'm certain your parents will see to reason how happy this makes you."

"I'm certain they will, and thank you." She was relieved that someone was happy for their proposal, as she couldn't yet call it an engagement.

"John and I will give you such a beautiful wedding present," Martha assured her as Amelia released a nervous laugh and shook her head.

"Mrs. Membrane. Please. Your attendance will be a present enough." Although, she knew better than to argue with her. Once she set her mind to something, there was no turning back.

"Have you convinced Dib, yet, of his paternity?" Martha inquired.

"I believe he is aware, yet continues to show reluctance. He has hard feelings, although there is no mistaking parentage. Please, continue to give him time," Amelia pleaded, Martha's face appearing saddened, though she nodded. "Both he and Gazlene. Their hearts are discouraged by the loss of their father. Now, to see them again…they found him as opposed to him finding them. However, if General Membrane has no interest-"

"John will have interest once he is faced with it."

"They both have to want it, Mrs. Membrane. This is a subject that cannot be force fed to them. Gazlene will rebel, and Dib…I know why General Membrane has Dib as his aide-de-camp. It's his way of protecting him and for that, I cannot be grateful enough. I will have a whole husband. General Membrane is being a father in protecting his son from harm's way."

Martha looked down. If the children came to light, she would show them what a family could and should be like. They grew up in such deplorable conditions, and yet Martha saw this as an opportunity to be the mother she always wanted to be.

"Please have patience. A mother's heart is present no matter what."

Martha picked her eyes up at the young woman and smiled, bitter tears pricking her eyes as Amelia reached out her hand to hold the others. Amelia squeezed the others for good measure. Amelia held the other for a long as she was able before Martha pulled away, needing a moment to excuse herself.

Amelia took advantage of this to visit their library, her fingers caressing the leather spines. Her index finger stopped on a medical journal as she flipped through the pages. The human body contained various organs that Amelia grew up learning as her brother, Joshua, was very much into the human anatomy. Amelia looked up organs starting with "s" and came up with stomach, spleen, but no squeedlyspooch and came to the conclusion that the human body did not contain such. Perhaps Dib was right. A shiver lingered through her at the thought.

* * *

Meanwhile, Zim decided he needed to discuss an important matter with Gaz, before returning back to camp with Joshua and Alexander the next morning. Certainly not together, but they needed to return the same day.

Zim had arranged for them to meet at the warehouse, where they often met, as the sun was setting. Gaz had a cloak covering her head, but Zim could make her figure from the window just the same. Gaz had no interest in being seen. She had decided to engage in this affair with Zim, and she didn't want to deal with the scorns and cries of 'harlequin', 'harlot' or 'homewrecker' whether or not Zim was married or had a family.

"Get inside, quickly, quickly," Zim coaxed her inside and shut the door behind her. He closed the blinds, which helped enhance the illumination of the candlelight. Zim's plans were still out, showing he was still working on his latest project.

"World domination?" She asked, peering over at the table.

"As a matter of fact, this pertains to world domination. Gaz, you are aware of what I am, yes?"

"Really the only reason why I'm here. You're not human."

Zim nodded, freeing his antennae of his disguise as they twitched. He couldn't hold back the sigh of relief as they moved about freely. Since his argument with Madge, Zim hadn't been able to keep up the complexion disguise. However, he took note, that none of the humans really took note. Women took pity on him, thinking he was sick. They offered him soup, they offered him help. They were too stupid to realize that this was the sickly complexion of the future ruler.

"Exactly right," Zim agreed and withdrew his lenses. He placed them in the container to keep moist and Gaz closed the lid. Perhaps initially she was taken aback by such a difference in appearance. She wasn't disturbed. She wasn't disgusted, in fact, it made her crave him even more.

Zim would never say it outright, or out loud to her, but she was like her brother in their love for the paranormal. The siblings just defined it dramatically differently.

"Gaz, I am ever closer to achieving my goal of world domination. Once I give the word, I will take over this worthless planet. Trust me, there is nothing here for you. I'd like for you to come to Irk with me. I reveal this to you because I feel I can trust you. If you defy me, I will destroy you."

"Not if I destroy you first."

Zim grinned at this, loving the spice that rolled off of her tongue in her threats. "I know you wouldn't. However, your brother is onto me."

Gaz waved a black lacy gloved hand. "No one believes him. They all think he's a whack job. I wouldn't pay too much mind to him. Besides, I've scared him into thinking they'll put him away if he cries about it. So, he talks about war, he discusses politics."

"He's taken alliance with that family you're staying with," Zim countered. "The more numbers they have…"

"The powder puff dresses?" Gaz quirked a brow. "Who squeal about marriage proposals and make up? I hardly would worry about them."

"The father? Tell me about him."

"He's invested in politics. Happenings in their disgusting city. From what I gather, because of my brother's beliefs, I highly doubt he'll allow the marriage to happen. The daughter will cry about it, and we'll move out."

"Conquering this planet will be my greatest achievement, yet. Since having met you, I have felt a change come about me. Physically, in the sense that I have grown an inch taller. In the other sense, that I do not think I can go on without your menacing mind at my side," Zim said upon clearing his throat.

Gaz straightened, deciding now would be the best time to tell Zim of her intentions. "The way you talk; you sound like you're trying to propose marriage. No offense, but I don't think I'll ever marry. Marriage destroyed my mother, and I won't be like her. I'm content with our arrangement as it stands."

Zim sensed an overpowering of fear emitting from her pores. "Ease your mind, Little Gaz. I am not trying to pressure you into a human union. I am simply stating that I enjoy your companionship."

Gaz nodded to that. "Then can we stop talking and start what we came here to do?"

Zim couldn't help but frown at that. However, he was leaving in the morning, and did desire to indulge in his partner before he left. Rather than the usual rough motions Gaz seemed to enjoy, as in yanking her to him and tossing her onto a table. Zim lifted her up to where her legs wrapped around his waist, her skirts piling beneath him as he leaned in to kiss her. All comforting movements he had picked up…and it was from watching Dib and Amelia. Observing paid off, he just wished he had a different model to feed off from. Gaz, however, seemed to relax in his hold after he did that. Her mind may have been fighting her from believing this was real, her body could not argue.

* * *

Come September, months after Dib and Amelia pressed their reasons as to why they should be wed. Jacob and Nancy finally gave into their blessing towards the couple to wed. The Ryders were impressed by how strong and well put their argument was, and how deep their connection was even apart. Jacob had told Nancy how much he liked the young boy, how he would be a good fit into their family. While he had no desire to let her go, Jacob knew when it was time to let his daughter lead her own life.

The wedding date was in December. A winter wedding, as the snow fell thick and heavy. Nancy was concerned that they would have to postpone the wedding, especially how the groom had yet to arrive. The wedding was to be held in Ryder Hall with a minister from town. Especially with the weather and the size of the estate, they had more than enough room to accommodate the guests in a warm environment. And truly, what better way to unionize their marriage, but to have it where they met and fell in love?

Amelia was upstairs, in a white gown to symbolize her purity and a veil over her head that Gretchen adjusted as her maid of honor. Gaz sat upon the bed in her wedding best, a gown provided by Nancy and shared by Angelica as Angelica and Gaz were the same size, although Gaz shifted uncomfortably inside the dress. Gaz had been proven wrong, and she was fairly certain this would strike anxiety in Zim. But, she would remind him later that evening, the two would be more concerned with marital affairs at the moment than paranormal investigating. Zim had time, still, to get ahead.

Gretchen turned her head towards the door as a burst of excitement swept through the room. It sounded like Dib, General and Mrs. Membrane had arrived along with the groomsmen, Laurent, Porter, and Blake. The guests piled in, Amelia instructed to remain upstairs until all of the guests had arrived.

And when it came time, the ceremony was beautiful. Angelica took to the piano for her sister to walk down to, along with one of their brothers, Alexander, who took to the harp. A young man of many talents, it seemed. Dib waiting for her near the minister, Jacob gave her away to Dib. Dib had rings arranged of gold bands with their names engraved on the inside along with their wedding date. They promised to be true to one another, promised to love, honor, and obey. Dib called her a partner he could share his life with and Amelia's vows reflected the same. Miles apart they were, and their vows read similarly.

They kissed as husband and wife as the snow fell outside. Amelia was now Dib's wife.

Gretchen proposed a toast to the bride and groom, although paused briefly to reflect on how it could possibly have been her to be in Amelia's position had she opened her mouth and said more than squeaked. She had lived with this regret, having the unsettling feeling that this union was wrong and would leave them all dissatisfied in the long run. But, he was in Amelia's arms and soon her bed. Gretchen wasn't aware of the eyes that did linger upon her.

She was too distracted by looking into Dib's eyes. For now, they were happy, as Dib held Amelia close to him and kissed her like the happy couple they were. Gretchen couldn't shake this feeling away. She had warned Amelia several times over, but her sister was headstrong and even accused Gretchen of being jealous. Gretchen decided to put a smile upon her face and raised her glass, asking all the others to toast the newlyweds with her.

"To Dib and Amelia. May you always be satisfied," Gretchen said, watching her sister tear up happily, which caused Gretchen to tear up, as well.

"To being satisfied!" Roared the crowd. Laurent gave a sad smile as he looked at Dib. He was happy for his friend, truly. But, he also couldn't help but feel saddened at the same time. His complex feelings made little sense to the man.

"Raise a glass to the couple!" Laurent cried out.

"Raise a glass to Dib's freedom shot!" Porter and Blake followed, which caused an eruption of laughter from the crowd.

* * *

Zim found Gaz away from all of the others as she held her hand to her abdomen, her dress tight around the middle as she cursed the family for giving her a dress that was too small. Zim took her glass of champagne away from her as she gave him a look.

"Have you caught ill from the germ infested weather?" Zim asked nervously.

Gaz had been feeling this way for some time. She had kept to herself and made certain to keep away from the others as she placed the back of her hand to her lips. This was no ordinary illness as she dashed away from Zim and towards the nearest empty room with a chamber pot.

"Oh dear, poor girl has had too much to drink," General Membrane took note as he came from behind Zim. "Weddings have a bad tendency of causing drunkenness."

"Dearest, should we call for someone? Perhaps one of the family?" Martha offered, clutching her hands to her chest. "There is that flu going around. Someone should see if she has a fever."

Zim knew she wouldn't let any of them near her, his antennae twitching from hearing her wretch behind the closed door. What a nauseating sound, however, Zim had an idea about what had happened and he felt completely responsible. He moved away from the couple and to the door, where he could be alone to converse with her.

"Gaz, how long have you been like this for?"

"Fuck off, Zim."

"I'll get your brother," he threatened lightly.

"You know this is no illness, right?" She asked cautiously. If her hair had any spring in her curls, they were limp.

Zim hesitated before rapping his gloved fingers gingerly against the door to gain her attention. "Gaz, we should revisit our conversation a few months ago. Obviously, we cannot keep this a secret for much longer. Especially now that you carry our smeet."

"What the fuck is a smeet?" Gaz hissed before being silenced by another invitation to greet the bronze chamber pot.

"The equivalent of a child!"

"Can you shout it any louder!?"

Zim stiffened as she confirmed his suspicion and a sense of something unfamiliar washed over him. He granted the young woman a test, and she passed. Now Zim felt as though he would pass out.


	8. Wait for It

Happy New Year, my friends!

I'm actually really happy with this chapter because I've covered several aspects. Zim's feelings, Gaz's feelings and a potential reconciliation between Dib and Gaz. I tried to get realistic pertaining to thoughts and emotions. I hoped I portrayed them well.

I hope you guys like this one!

* * *

 **Chapter Eight- Wait For It**

Birth on Irk was a marvel of science. Humans would never be able to grasp their filthy heads around it. Zim was born via a mix of genes. Genes from who? He would never know. The genes were inseminated into a test tube, which produced life the way a human woman's womb would. Mock uteruses, givers of life. He never knew the love of a family, and so Zim never knew what love was.

He was learning drips and drabs from the humans. The way a man held a woman, the way a woman smiled up at him. The ways they acted so foolishly when enamored with sex, whether opposite or same. Zim had seen it from both perspectives in humans. He had been studying pheromones when Gaz entered his life.

Sex, love, and the magic surrounding it was fascinating enough for an invader to take a break from seizing control over an entire planet. Madge and Skoodge had their roles and kept to them well. He never envisioned himself attracted to anyone, let alone a human. Zim was always under the assumption that his marvelous genes would be spliced to create human life. He had just been thinking about it far too mechanically and sex itself was simpler than Zim anticipated.

But, to produce life in a way that was so un-Irken was astounding to him. He had no intention of going against the grain of his people. But, now here was the Gaz-Human slumbering beside him with a rounding belly that protected his smeet. The human body was amazing, especially now that it affected Zim. Before, he thought them to be squishy meat bags filled with stupid and loathing. The human female body was worth so much more. Life givers, they were.

He tilted his head, antennae drooping over his shoulder as he leaned over to place his hand upon her swelling belly. Perhaps too soon to feel his son or daughter. He looked down at his hands, slipping off his gloves before placing his bare skin to hers. He didn't do this often for the force emitting from them was far too much to contain. However, Zim held such desire to feel his child. He was astounded at this idea of what the human female's body was capable of.

He swallowed when he felt it, his red eyes glancing over to make sure Gaz hadn't woken from his ministrations. A small swell for now, but it would grow. The smeet communicated with him and he felt his heart swell. Perhaps there were some things more important than domination. All he wanted now was to build a life that would befit his child. Gingerly, he moved his hand along her, stopping and feeling his breath hitch when he felt it.

His child had a heartbeat. Far more developed than he imagined, wondering where and when it began. Such a rapid heartbeat with the promise of strength and growth. Zim lowered his head, still trying to wrap his head around this, resting his forehead where he felt the heartbeat.

"I promise you, smeet. Your father is Zim, and will allow no harm to come to you."

Though she remained still, Gaz peeked an eye open, both listening and watching Zim's actions in the corner of her eye. Initially, Gaz had her own flux of emotions when she discovered that her monthly blood hadn't come, her breasts were tender and a sharp pain implanted itself into her uterus. Blood rushed straight towards that location, and she knew something was amiss. Hiding it from the family, who poked their noses into everything, was no easy task.

But, when she realized that life now inhabited her body, if she were honest with herself, she was uncertain if she was ready for motherhood. Ruining her own life was one thing, but then to care for a child while she was still trying to figure things out was a whole other ordeal. She didn't think being with Zim would have had to take precaution like a normal man. But, if he had the tools for job, anything was possible.

She imagined her mother, struggling, heartbroken, uncertain of what was to become of her and her children. Then again, their mother relied too heavily on a man with no skillset to become anything more than what she was and Gaz refused to face that same fate. Gaz made certain to frequent the Ryder's library as she was a learned woman.

She questioned herself over and over again. Her brother made certain she was in a safe house, but what would happen when the child came? Did she even want the child? If anyone were to have heard her would have called her blasphemous. A child was a gift from God. However, so many of those morons clung to that mentality that children roamed the streets because people who weren't meant to be parents had them. Children were abused because parents didn't know how to cope and more of them roamed hungry because their parents couldn't keep up with the number of mouths to feed.

Gaz had said to herself that she never wanted that for any child she may have brought into the world. And now she was, and she pressed a number of hard inquiries to her brain that she would have to answer. Hearing Zim now, the way he spoke to her belly, she inwardly groaned. He wanted the baby, and she was uncertain if she did. She wondered how much of a terrible person that made her. These times were hard, she didn't want them any harder for her child, who would be born in the throngs of a war.

The next morning, she left Zim's base to head back to the Ryder home. She applied a poker face on as an added accessory to her makeup and bunched up her gowns as she ascended the staircase and rounded to the back where she often entered through the back door. Her heart jumped into her throat when she found Dib and Amelia in the kitchen.

The smell of the bacon was enough to send Gaz heading for a chamber pot. She was better off back at the base with Zim, where it was dark and smelled of metal. Metal she could handle, but not the dead animal that was frying in the pan. Amelia glanced up at her sister-in-law, her wedding band glinting in the sunlight as they came out from hiding in their marital suite. The look of content on her brother's face and the glow on Amelia's told Gaz what they had been up to. Although the content look shriveled as the siblings made eye contact.

"Are you just getting in now?" Dib asked as he raised his coffee cup to his lips. As the bottom of the cup scraped against the china's bottom, Gaz swept her bangs from her eyes. She needed a bath and a change of clothing. She didn't want to discuss anything with him now.

"Gaz?" Dib asked, his face dropping with further concern.

"Can we not do this now, Dib?" Gaz asked, dropping her attitude, asking sincerely. Dib placed the coffee cup down and blinked at his sister.

"Your face is pale. General Membrane was saying how you were sick the night of the wedding. Did you have too much to drink?"

"Yes," Gaz quickly lied. "That's exactly what happened. I had too much wine." The flatness in her tone caused Dib to sigh.

"You'll come to me when you're ready to talk?"

"When are you going back to base?"

"Tomorrow," Dib replied, exchanging glances with Amelia as she transferred the meat and eggs onto a plate as Gaz could no longer handle it and quickly dispersed from the room. Dib immediately stood from the table and gave his wife a look of concern.

"Damn it, kid," Gaz whispered into the chamber pot. "I didn't even eat anything."

Dib moved from the table before Amelia grasped his arm. "Don't push it. Let her settle herself in. Whatever it is, we can't change the past of her actions. We can only do damage control and move forward."

Gaz had made it a point to address herself as no lady. She didn't want to be associated with the puffy dresses that swept by in their petticoats and boned corsets. Gaz had minimal petticoats and refused to wear a corset. Zim was attracted to her because she refused to be those things. She refused to be what everyone else expected her to be. But did that wind up hurting her in the long run?

She ran herself a bath and sank into the warm water, running the washcloth over her skin. She used to be so certain of what she wanted, and now this changed everything. She let the droplets fall over her swell, interrupted by a voice from the other side of the door. Gaz knew this could be only one person.

"Maybe you should listen to your _wife_ and give me my space."

"I did give you your space and you wound up pregnant," Dib didn't even falter at those words. Perhaps marriage had made him grow into less of a nervous wreck. "Gaz let me in."

"Into the bathroom? Where I'm kind of naked?"

"What? No! I mean let me in….talk to me. The whole family is concerned."

"Those people are NOT my family, Dib." He could hear the sloshing of the water in the tub, which meant she was making her way out. That was progress. "Which one of them told you? Let me guess, it's that goody-goody wife of yours?"

"Even if it were Amelia, it was only out of concern. It was Mrs. Ryder." Dib now had a wife to defend, and wasn't going to allow his sister to spit her acerbities at her. "She had suspected it for some time now."

Silence. More ruffling of clothes indicated she was either dressing or was putting a robe on. She opened the door, donned in a thin bathrobe for the winter. Dib's eyes immediately darted down, and where the baby lied. He was speechless, brows knit together before looking at his little sister. He remembered her as a little girl, and now this little girl was having one of her own.

"Gaz…"

"Spare your sympathies, Dib," Gaz pushed past him towards her bedroom, clutching the robe tighter around her.

"Gaz," Dib said her name more sternly. It brought her attention enough to stop walking, water dripping around her feet as she glared at him. Dib could feel the hatred radiate from her and he lowered his defenses. No more, it was time to stop.

"Meet me downstairs after you've dressed. This discussion is not over." This baby was nothing to play around with. It wasn't a puppy, it wasn't a stray animal they released back into the wild after feeding it. This was his future niece or nephew on the line.

Gaz's knuckles turned white from how tightly she had clutched the robe to her. She whipped around toward her bedroom, hearing the footsteps dissolve as Dib descended the staircase and headed into the parlor, which was warmed by the sun from the opened windows.

"Thank you, Ms. Rosie," Dib thanked the servant as she warmed a smile in his direction.

"Mrs. Amelia insisted on bringing lemon tea. Ah….Mr. Dib?" Rosie asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you mad at me for telling on Ms. Gaz?" She bit her bottom lip. "About her being with child?"

"Mrs. Ryder gave herself as a cover. No one is mad at you." Dib shook his head and sat up straight in the plush chair. "That was a really good thing you did, and I appreciate it. Gaz was always good at hiding things from me. I don't know how I didn't see this happen."

"Sometimes we only see what we'd like to see. You wanted to see the best in your little sister."

Dib nodded at that and rubbed his temples. Their bad relationship caused this to occur. A relationship he felt he never bothered to fix. He couldn't blame any of this on Gaz. He was her older brother, it was his responsibility to set things right.

"Are you well, Mr. Dib?"

"Can you excuse us a moment, Ms. Rosie?" He showed the other woman respect, to which she bowed her head and nodded. She left the room, closing the doors behind her as Gaz entered, wearing a frock left behind by Mrs. Ryder. They knew, they just didn't say anything. Sandra had created enough of a scandal in their home, this one wouldn't be any different.

Gaz crossed the room and took a seat across from her brother. She was tired from the number of changes coursing through her body and her inability to keep anything down. She sat in the seat as she straight as she was able, while Dib poured a cup of hot water with some lemon, since the tax of actual tea was so high the product was scarce. It reminded him one of the reasons why he was fighting in this war.

Gaz accepted the cup and eyed her brother.

"Can you tell me who the father is….if you know?" Dib asked her cautiously.

Her eyes widened. "You think of me as some common whore, Dib? That is just splendid."

"I don't know what you're doing when you're sneaking out at night," Dib replied honestly. "Gaz, you don't talk to me. You're leading your own life out there, just like you wanted."

"It's better than listening to you ramble on about crazy bullshit. Ghosts, aliens, El Chupacabra, zombies. C'mon, Dib. They're. Not. Real."

Dib pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gaz, you're purposely neglecting my perspective on this. You like your card games, I like my paranormal and Amelia believes in it, too. There are believers."

"You and your nutcase wife."

"Watch it," he said warningly. Gaz sipped lightly on her hot lemon water, thinking about adding ginger to settle her stomach. Although she and the baby both knew, there was no winning here. Smeet's rule.

"I don't understand why this conversation is necessary," Gaz said after taking a long sip.

"Alright, let's start over. Gaz, I should have had this talk with you a while ago. When I found out the money was raised to send to send us abroad, I worried about you. I worried about the kind of life I could provide for you. I'm not saying you couldn't do it, but it's hard for a woman to handle life on her own. And hey, that goes for anyone. Big brother to little sister here. As trying as you can be sometimes, I care about you. I wanted the best life for you, and if that meant finding you someone who could take better care of you than me, then…I'd have to do it."

"You were trying to pawn me off to someone," Gaz condensed it sharply.

"No," Dib corrected, shaking his head as his scythe followed with his movements. "You're looking at it like dad left us. I wasn't trying to accomplish that, at all."

Gaz looked down at the lemon slice, turning it over with her spoon. Perhaps she was wrong, again. "Maybe I _was_ thinking about dad."

"I refuse to turn into him, you have to believe that. And I know you've got to be thinking about mom now." He leaned forward in his seat. "Just because they were our parents, doesn't mean that we are going to turn into them. When I become a dad, I'm not leaving my child. I'm going to be there for that baby, and my wife. And I'd like to start by being a good uncle to your baby."

Gaz leaned back into her seat. "You mean you're not going to freak out?"

"I did, at first," He admitted. "But, I can't get upset about past actions because of miscommunication between us. I take responsibility for that. You're still my sister, and I'm going to work hard to take care of you and the baby."

"The baby has a father," Gaz said then, causing Dib to straighten.

"Who is the father of the baby, Gaz?"

* * *

"ZIM! Come out of that hovel of yours now, and face me!" Dib's fists were clenched, white at the knuckles as one pounded against the hard wood of the warehouse doors. He didn't think he'd visit here again under these pretenses. "YOU! You did this to my little sister!?"

"Dib! Stop this!" Gaz sighed and placed her hands around his arm, attempting to hold down his fist.

"Stand back, Gaz. Someone has to fight on behalf of your honor!" He gently nudged his sister behind him. Her condition was delicate, and therefore, Dib had every intention of the fight coming to physical blows and did not want her in the middle of it. It was enough she had followed him here.

"It's not like we did this knowing _this_ would happen!" She gestured to her middle.

"What did you think was going to happen!?" Dib asked her, astounded. "We've had The Talk before! Unless you've tuned me out?"

Gaz sighed, hearing the double doors of the warehouse creak open. Zim stood there with his fists at his sides, arching a brow. Dib's cheeks reddened by the bitter cold that had settled in, puffs of breath emitted from between his lips as he breathed heavily from anger.

"Dib-stink, I do not have time for this nonsense," Zim said. "Unless you've come to work before we depart back to base, I do not see a reason for you to have come today."

"You impregnated my little sister, you monster. You're going to allow this child to be born out of wedlock?"

He waved his hand towards the other, brushing the works away like the dust in the air. "Wedlock, shmedlock. Zim knows not of this wedlock. But Zim also needs not to explain his intentions with _you_."

Dib had no idea how it was possible for an alien to copulate with a human woman and produce a hybrid specimen. No matter how Dib looked at it now, that hybrid child was his future niece or nephew. Of all the beings for Gaz to share herself with, it had to be with the alien. Was it to spite him before they had made such progress that afternoon? All Dib knew now was that he had to make a point on behalf of his family.

He was little aware of what thoughts were actually flowing through his mind. Dib lunged at Zim, knocking the other back between the ajar doors and rolled the two between the aisles of workbenches and tables. Zim was supposed to have been his fellow soldier in arms. He was uncertain of whether or not they could have called one another friends, as Zim was often volatile towards him. Moreover, no matter how Dib held back from spitting back at Zim, he couldn't contain himself now that he had touched his little sister.

"Stop this!" Gaz shouted, although her cries were ignored. "Knock it off!"

Zim rolled on top of Dib and struck him once, twice, and was blocked upon the third blow by Dib extending his arm and raising his knee into the others abdomen.

"How about that squeedlyspooch, spaceman!?"

Zim growled. To Dib, it was of no normal growl. Developed deep within the throat, almost animalistic; Zim pinned Dib down, an antennae poking out from beneath his wig.

"Listen here, human. I will destroy you. I will rip you apart limb by limb, and I will savor every moment as I do." He jerked Dib back onto the ground, slamming the back of his head into the floor.

Glasses broken in the right lens, his left eye opened as he stared hard at Zim. The other's weight had pinned him down, hips driving further to make sure he stayed down. Beneath his gloves, if Dib didn't know any better, would have assumed they were claws. Three prongs digging beneath his clothes and into his flesh. He yelped out in pain, underestimating the others strength. Upon physical appearance, Dib wouldn't have known how strong he was. This was no monster strength; this was of another species altogether.

"You are lucky you are related to my mate. She is the only thing right now keeping you alive. I give you warning, Dib, and let this warning linger. Come near me again, you will suffer. You will suffer more than any human will suffer when I take over this pathetic planet." He struck Dib against the pavement again, his own lens popping off, the wig sliding off and landed beside the two. Dib had all of the confirmation he needed, and Gaz knew all along. She was protecting him.

"Zim, stop this." Gaz's voice had simmered, almost pleading. "Don't."

Zim began to rise from the floor, brushing his clothing off and reaching down to pick up the broken lens. He would have to find a suitable spare. "Fear not, Mother of my Smeet. I shall not risk my child, nor you. I shall release the Dib beast. Take him home and return to me tonight." He left her with his order.

"Zim, y-you won't get away with this." Zim's foot pressed into Dib, hearing the other outwardly groan in pain. The more he thought about that statement, he glanced over his shoulder to Gaz, who was holding her belly protectively. Zim released his foot off of Dib, the other coughing for air, feeling the break in his ribs.

"I believe I already have, Dib. And it's as you say _just you wait_. I have only just begun."


	9. Stay Alive

Welcomed to this jumbled chapter!

Thank you, guys, for your continuing support of The Revolutionary Invader!

Dwicky is Charles Lee.

To **SaintHeartwing** \- I really appreciate your review. I'm sorry you're so torn! My honest intent for the ZAGR was to fill the role of Burr and Theodosia with little Theodosia along the way. For the fact that Gaz so happens to be Dib's sister kicks it up another few notches and it becomes a web that she herself is entangled in. I hope it'll get better for you in the upcoming chapters! I think Zim will be kicked down a little soon. He's a little power hungry right now.

This chapter has now taken a turn of events. I was actually really concerned that it would be more tedious to read through than I wanted, but I managed to put a spin on it...I think.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Nine- Stay Alive/Ten Duel Commandments**

Dib knew the truth. All of his suspicions had been confirmed. He returned to Amelia banged up and bloodied, to which she washed him with a horrified look upon her face. Repeatedly, she asked who had done such a thing to him and why. Dib, at the time, could only answer in a series of groans. He would have to be healed by the morning to return to base with Zim and the others. His mind was a stunning cacophony of thoughts and emotions as the reality hung in the air that Zim would soon become family.

Angelica and Gretchen stood in the doorway as Amelia wrung a warm cloth to wash off the blood. She noticed a few odd things, the red blood which belonged to Dib and what seemed to be discolored blood. There was no explanation to this as Dib eyed the blood, as well.

"I'll call for the doctor," his wife said gently to him. She would request the doctor to perform bloodletting at the sight of the wounds where she found the discolored blood. Gaz lingered with Angelica and Gretchen. Now that the bruises had time to set in, she saw for herself what the cost of her actions had caused. She opened her mouth to speak to Amelia, who merely walked past her.

Amelia had too much on her plate at the moment to stop and speak to Gaz. Her petticoats quickly trailing as her heels clacked against the wooden flooring. "Everyone away from the room," she warned with her back turned to the three women.

"You better listen, ladies," Dib coughed and hissed in agony thereafter.

 _'What if Dib was right about this Zim being an alien? That blood was not Dib's blood and not of this world…'_ she thought to herself and clutched the wetted cloth to her, and caused a wet stain on the chest of her gown, which she ignored. _'Knowing my husband, he fought Zim on behalf of Gaz. Knowing my husband…he initiated this to that level. But it seems to be for greater cause.'_

"Bishop!" The young woman called for her little brother.

"Amelia, what's wrong?" The young boy asked as he poked his head from his bedroom, his large brown eyes curious with wonder. This caused Amelia to smile at the boy who would soon be fourteen.

"I need you to run down and fetch Doctor Hooper. Let him know he needs to perform a bloodletting."

The young boy gave a look at the thought of the procedure, which consisted of lacerating and draining of the blood, however he did not argue as he nodded his head and dashed from the house and into town to fetch the family's doctor. He had birthed all of Nancy's children to date, fixed all of their ailments, and seemed to be like a miracle worker to the younglings in the family with their cuts, bumps, and bruises. Luckily, no terrible ailments had crossed the family, yet.

Amelia walked between the hallway where she could see the front door, the upstairs hallway where she had seen Dib for the second time in her lifetime and ultimately led to their attachment to one another. She leaned against the railway, praying that none of this foreign fluid would cause any serious infection. Couldn't lose him after finally having him. But, she would care for him, as she had vowed and as was in her heart.

Bishop soon returned with Doctor Hooper as she straightened. She quickly waved for the graying practitioner to join her upstairs. As Doctor Hooper began to perform the bloodletting, Amelia wrote a letter to General Membrane of Dib's injury and to excuse his absence for the following reasons. She would require Doctor Hooper's signature for further evidence and other notations the good doctor decided to leave behind to further support her point. However, she wouldn't send it until she heard further news.

The doctor bandaged his chest to support the ribcage and diagnosed bedrest for the next few weeks. Dib argued that he needed to return to base and the doctor argued that it was going to be impossible.

"Son, let your wife care for you and focus on getting better," the doctor instructed for what felt like the hundredth time. Dib sank back into his pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

"I'll send word to the General," Amelia voiced behind Doctor Hooper, watching the elder man pick up the containers with Dib's blood inside. It all appeared to be his blood, no tracings of the discolored blood intermingled which meant Dib would not be infected. The blood she found was shallow on the skin's surface and had settled near to his wounds. Still, she couldn't take any chances.

"Dear, perhaps you should clean yourself up," the doctor suggested, taking note of the dried blood on her hands and gown. Initially, she began to shake her head before the doctor cleared his throat.

"On second thought," Amelia dared to not protest against the doctor.

"I shall remain here with your husband until you return."

The General wrote back for Dib to maintain his rest if he could not be transported back to camp. Amelia wrote back that transport was out of the question.

* * *

"It was Zim, wasn't it, Dib?" Amelia asked for confirmation of her own suspicions, as she returned with a new pair of glasses she had made up, discarding the old and damaged pair into the pocket of her apron.

"You knew, didn't you?" Dib asked as he took his time sitting up, slipping the pair of glasses on. He blinked a few times to adjust before sighing contently, the headaches he had been experiencing from poor vision without them now beginning to go away.

"You two have your differences. I can hardly see it being anyone else. Especially now, where…" Amelia trailed off, taking a seat by Dib's side. She dipped a spoon into a bowl of porridge and fed it to him.

"This also means that your suspicions have been confirmed," She continued. Dib eyed her, placing his hand upon her thigh. Without many words exchanged, she understood the communication perfectly.

"If the pregnancy comes to full term, we shall face this head on, together." She felt him squeeze her thigh before accepting another spoonful, tasting the honey she had infused inside.

"Where is Gaz?" Dib asked after swallowing.

"Taking a walk into town with my mother and Gretchen. Your color is coming back," she said with a smile, knowing what he wanted to hear next. "You'll be back on base in no time, at all."

As much as Dib desired nothing more now than to get back to work and furthermore to keep an eye on Zim, he was enjoying this here with his wife. Despite Zim's threats, Dib had every bit of mind to foil his plans the best he could. With the exchange of eyes, Amelia knew where Dib's mind roamed and she frowned. The war was enough for her to fear, and now to tack on an alien race they knew nothing about. She would say extra in her prayers every night to keep him safe.

"Just stay alive," she whispered. "Please keep him safe."

With her hands clasped at her chest, she prayed when Dib rode back to base when he was recuperated. His chest was still bandaged, but he went back a few weeks later when it was nearly healed. Gaz watched from her window, partially ashamed. She was beginning to trust her brother again, having allowed this unearthly being in, now caught between Earth and Irk. Her child began to move freely and frequently inside of her as it grew within her womb, but felt unwell enough to physically wish her brother luck and a safe return. She caught him glance up at her window to where the angular outlining of her hair she was certain stuck out. It was then she realized he was always going to love her.

She had made her mistakes, uncertain what kind of mother she would make, Gaz hoisted herself from the window's plush ledge to walk from her bedroom and into the garden. While still brisk, the sunlight was making everything warmer and the baby was too active to lay around all day. Sorry wasn't going to fix this episode. And furthermore, despite the attack that had transpired, Gaz had grown attached to the alien's protectiveness of her.

Half of her conscious battled for her to stay away, the other rationalized now that no matter what she chose in the long run, ultimately, Zim was her child's father and perhaps fatherhood would calm him down for the sake of the baby. Her heart pointed out that Zim was there for her when she felt no one else was, but her mind never produced the ideology that Zim was taking advantage of her vulnerability. And she wanted exactly what she had at that time when it was happening.

The only regret Gaz shared now was her eyes opened to her brother's intentions and he was injured in the process. The alien had made them all aware of his strength, his power, and his full intent. She no longer had a plan of action, eventually, she would have to choose a side and hope the other made it alive.

* * *

Dib returned to base to hear a round of news that whispered along the camp. Captain Dwicky was made a general, and supported by Zim. Dib stiffened as he dismounted his horse with assistance from Laurent who embraced Dib as much as he was able without the injured feeling pain from it. Laurent had missed him, embracing the other comfortingly.

"I know what you're thinking. His Excellency should have given the title to you."

"He'll never give it to me. I'm far too valuable as his Right-Hand Man," Dib replied with a sigh as the other gloated about his position, going around the camp to introduce himself by his new given title.

"Hey there, I'm Major General Dwicky!" He beamed.

It was enough to nauseate Dib. He trudged along to his quarters and tossed his duffel bag onto his unmade cot and made the bed. Tomorrow they would roam into battle, he also heard. No matter how much Dib pleaded for some men and firearms, he was almost always quickly and roughly denied. It was frustrating to Dib because he was worth more than his quill.

* * *

 _"You don't know how powerful you are because of that quill!" Membrane attempted to make Dib understand how big he was because of that pen. The pen, in this instance, was mightier than the sword._

 _Although, perhaps Dib was too young to see its worth. "I'm worth more than this." The younger deliberately snapped his favorite quill to make a point. He wondered if that was why he never made it higher than where he was._

* * *

"How has Zim been?" Dib asked.

"Gloating how he kicked your ass enough to keep you bedridden for weeks."

"Sounds like Zim," Dib replied flatly, raising his brows followed by dropping them.

"Don't sound so defeated. You were protecting your kin."

"And I got my ass handed to me, Laurent."

"I still think that's brave as hell."

Dib offered him a half smile before adjusting his shirt collar, ready to visit the General's tent to write accounts in their logbook and resume his duty. General Membrane clapped Dib on the shoulder and welcomed him back.

* * *

Many of the men were surprised Dib wasn't in charge of the troops in regards to the Battle of Monmouth, which took place several weeks after Dib's return. He was calculative enough to get the mission accomplished without too much bloodshed on their behalf. They would see how Dwicky would fare on the battlefield. General Membrane initiated the orders to attack the British soldiers. Bayonets in hand, cannons at the ready. However, when Dwicky saw the numbers ahead of him, being a General suddenly wasn't that appealing.

"Oh my God." His face completely paled, eye twitching.

"Everyone attack!" Membrane barked. He kept Dib at his close side. While not one hundred percent healed, Dib wanted to see the light of battle again.

"I give guidance, not heads. Everyone retreat!" Dwicky cried to his battalion.

Both Dib and Membrane balked identically. "What are you doing!?"

"Attack!" Membrane shouted again.

"Retreat!" Dwicky countered. Gunfire causing him to jump and the cannon booms caused him, well, to nearly wet himself. The man was not prepared for this. General Membrane was wrong in giving him his title.

"Dwicky! What are you doing!?"

"Do you not see those numbers!?" Dwicky asked in a panic.

"I'm sorry, is this not your speed!?" Membrane towered over him. He shook his head.

He called for Dib who gave him a salute. Membrane was still his commanding officer. "Dib, have Porter Wynn take the lead."

With his head lowered in shame, Dwicky hung behind as Porter took charge. His thick accent dripping the commands, pointing, doing everything a leading officer should have been doing. Dwicky accomplished nothing. Zim shook his head as he slapped his hand over his face, as he had promoted Dwicky to get even with Dib and ruin his chances of ever seeing light as a lead officer. Bodies laid scattered along the field because they ran back and forth like the moving targets they wound up becoming. That was sinful in itself to use men as targets for the opposing team.

Dwicky sat on his cot after simmering down from the day's events. His hands were between his thighs and his head hung low. He was a failure, his cowardice got the better of him. He wanted to prove himself, but, Dwicky would always be better at giving personal guidance as opposed to battle guidance.

"So, the General really chewed you out, huh?" Zim asked, leaning against the tent post.

"You recommended me, Zim, and I failed. Men died out there because of me."

Zim shrugged nonchalantly and looked down at his gloved hands. "It wasn't your fault. I mean, General Membrane should have been more present knowing how inexperienced you were. I was honest in saying that you have potential."

"He really should go back to conducting imaginary science in Mt. Skyrim." Dwicky said this out of emotion. Any embarrassed man would. Well, the irrational ones, anyway. "He's no General at all."

Zim raised a brow and glanced upward to the other officers.

"Dwicky. Hush yourself. That's His Excellency," another officer shushed.

"His Excellency?" Dwicky picked his head up, hands moving from between his thighs to look up at his comrades, those who would lend an ear to a man whose ego was damaged. "His Excellency is…"

Dib, Porter, Blake, and Laurent watched Dwicky from the other side of the tent and shook their heads. He was making a fool of himself, but he would also undo himself. There would be no one to protect him.

"He really shouldn't speak of the General that way," Laurent said.

"Someone should shut him up," Dib commented in agreement.

"He'd been doing this even before you came here, though. I don't know why General Membrane promoted him," Blake added.

"Because Zim didn't want to even give me a chance to prove myself. I know exactly where this stems from. Did anyone bring this to General Membrane's attention?"

Laurent nodded. "He said to ignore it. Children will be children."

"This _child_ needs to learn a lesson," Dib said. He was angry at this. Perhaps not so much that it was a direct attack against General Membrane, despite all that the man did for him. Dib was still uneven in his thoughts about that. No, it was the fact that this man was able to run his mouth freely. Zim was attacking within and Dib needed to show Zim that he wasn't getting away with this.

"But, we shouldn't disobey direct orders, should we?"

"Risks are meant to be taken when they're for good causes," Laurent commented. "Shall we put them up to a duel?"

Dib stared at his friend, admiring him and his bravery. "I'll be your second." He couldn't allow his first and truest friend to do this by himself.

* * *

Duels were more than aiming and firing to determine dominance. They had rules. Rule number one stated attempting to gain Dwicky to take back the slanderous things he said about General Membrane. If Dwicky were to apologize, the duel would be called off.

Dwicky spat at the thought. The duel resumed.

The second rule, if the duel were to continue, the duelist would grab a second. For Laurent, that was Dib who had earlier agreed. For Dwicky, it was Zim.

They all looked at one another, Dwicky appearing nervous but still persistent on continuing. The man had no nerve, but he would not go down without a fight. The third rule consisted of the seconds meeting face to face, Zim smirked at Dib, who earned a glare in return from the other. There was no negotiating, but the fourth rule contained an attempt to negotiate peace, another attempt to kill off the duel.

Zim would fuel it, and he would get off on Dib looking to back down. Laurent insisted on seeing it through for the sake of not wanting to give either man satisfaction. Backing down was not an option at this point.

"Then we negotiate a location, Zim," Dib said.

"Outskirts of the camp. Dawn," Zim immediately replied, having thought it through. "By the cliff."

"The cliff?" Dib frowned, already seeing where Zim was going with this.

"Do you protest?" Dib gave the alien a hard look before shaking his head.

"No."

It was only a few hours until dawn. There was no time to sleep, all of their adrenaline pumping with the lingering excitement of the duel. The pistols were distributed, Zim being fair and didn't subject to using an Irken weapon due to the fact that he was so sure he would win without it.

Both Laurent and Dwicky wrote notes to their loved ones in the event they should not return from it. Close to dawn, the four of them marched towards the cliff, each man standing in the center of the cliff. After the paces were counted, whoever was shot would fall from the edge and there would be no chance of coming back from the duel. Laurent glanced at Dib before holding his head up high. Although Dib had second thoughts.

"Let's do this. Count the paces," Laurent ordered.

"Zim, can we negotiate this?" Dib attempted one last time to reason with the other, which was another one of the rules.

"Do you surrender, Dib-Beast?" Zim leaned in as Dwicky was hopeful that Dib would.

"I'm not surrendering. Dwicky is inexperienced and unfit for the position," Dib prepared an honest evaluation. "He is ruinous and a hazard unto himself and others."

"We do not surrender!" Laurent chimed in. Dib rolled his eyes, wishing the other had an off switch.

"Looks like we're doing this, Dib. For Dwicky doesn't bow down, either," Zim said, Dib catching the hint of malice in his throat. Dib was certain Zim wanted to see some kind of bloodshed.

"One, two, three…"

They began in the center, stepping backward. Zim and Dib marked the areas with their boots. Dwicky and Laurent stopping once they hit the boot markers. Laurent smiled at Dib and winked, wanting these last moments, if they were to be so, to be ones in which Dib smiled fondly upon.

The pistols were aimed towards the sky. This was it. The moment of truth. Face the opponent, count out loud to ten. The sun began to rise in the sky as Laurent smiled. These moments were worth it to him. He had no regrets in life.

"Fire!"

The gunshots rang into the morning as the sunlight kissed the cliff. One bullet missed, and the other hit its opponent. Dib prayed, for what felt like the first time in his life; he prayed that Laurent would emerge from this as the winner. He couldn't bear to lose his friend; he didn't want to lose his best friend. And yet his friend came out victorious. Dib's eyes widened pleasantly as he reached out and embraced the others as Laurent's eyes softened. He was still alive.

"We won!" Dib crowed, although he winced at the sight of Dwicky down. The man was only shot in the arm. But, he was grateful that's all it was.

"You've won nothing," came the thunderous voice of none other than the General.

* * *

As the duel went on and the General was out of range, another pair of leaders received a call from a communicative device on the wrist of an invader. The face could not be seen, but the voice came in loud and clear. Alerting beeps came in after the initial transmission, making sure someone responded.

"Sirs, this is worse than I could have imagined," the voice said, though controlled, still managed to sound somewhat fearful."

Tallest Red yawned as the voice pleaded for one of them to respond when no one immediately did. It was quiet on The Massive. Red glanced down at Purple, who still slumbered on the big chair in the main control room. He smacked his hand down upon the button to answer the call. The Irken insignia flashed upon the screen and the soundwaves of the voice played out.

"What is it, soldier?" Red yawned.

"Sir, thank Irk, it's Zim. Even without Irken engineering, he's still out of control. The numbers aren't in among the heads of the humans. But, I counted fourteen of our soldiers dead on the field. And that's not even the final total."

Red quieted. "How did fourteen invaders manage to fight on the human battlefield?"

"Zim gave the orders, sir."

"On who's authority?" Red's voice darkened.

"Based on your previous conversations, milords, yours."

Red quieted, looking up at the skylight on the ship, he could see the stars and planets as they passed. It was a mistake to give Zim a chance. He practically destroyed them all in Operation Impending Doom 1. Zim wasn't even supposed to be part of this one. Somehow, he managed to insert himself into the equation. He inserted himself into a seat of power he didn't belong in. And because the Tallest hadn't taken care of it themselves in the beginning, they were paying for it. Tallest Red had to make a decision. It was one thing to kill the humans. It was another altogether to kill his own in the field.

"Zim promoted a weak human, unfit for the title. His poor judgment killed our men."

How many more would Zim kill before he was satisfied? Was he even aware he killed his own kin?

"I'm calling it, soldier. Abort the mission, we'll send out the word to the others, and come on home. It's about time I had a talk with Zim." The truth was out there, as the humans proclaimed. Now it was Zim's turn to hear his.


	10. Meet Me Inside, That Will Be Enough

Hey all! How did you survive the snowfall of this year? I drove in it for work, and survived! New York got hit baaaad.

Chapter Ten, as promised, deals with several topics.

One, Dib and Membrane visiting their kinship at last, along with a little backstory to Membrane himself.

Two, Amelia is pregnant, and Gaz has the baby. The cousins will be both months and species apart. Will they be friends or enemies?

Three, Zim finds out about his mission although a change is coming about Zim. Will this result in anything good? Or will everything crumble beneath his feet?

Membrane's backstory does follow closer to the backstory of Hamilton's parents. His mother was branded a whore by her first husband, and stripped of everything she had. Hamilton's biological father stuck around until Hamilton was about 10, and it was deemed to be so due to finances.

Please continue to leave your feedback, I love it so!

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Meet Me Inside/That Would Be Enough**

Before General Membrane had been called to the dueling grounds at the cliff, he had stopped to read a letter he had received from Dib's wife. He studied the letter. There was no mistaking it, the letter was addressed to him and not Dib. When it came to Dib, he had his reasons why he did what he did and it seemed the young boy didn't wish to acknowledge anything outside of his work. That in itself was an admirable quality, but at some cost.

Martha pleaded with him to see light on this and shed light on the boy. He would have his regrets one day if he didn't at least try. He was under the impression his wife wished for the happy family she had always dreamed. Unable to have any of her own, John could understand. He more than understood. He experienced and felt it. To leave a family behind was the hardest decision he ever had to make.

Before he was a General, he was a scientist. He was an inventor, he buried his nose into books of medicine. Science was his first love. He admired Aristotle, Galileo, Sir Isaac Newton, and Francis Bacon with his _'scientific method of investigation'_ on which John Membrane dedicated his work. He wanted to become like them and make a difference in the world. His father, Marshal Membrane, saw the world differently. It was war, war, and more war. You fought like a man.

Science was how he met a very special someone. She was the daughter of a wealthy landowner, who had an eye for natures and sciences. She was never taken seriously, but John welcomed her in and showed her what he knew. Her name was Margarita, but many called her Peg, and she preferred to be called Peg, or on occasion Peggy.

Peg's father eventually died, and John had his eye on marrying her, however, she was taken into someone else's embrace. It was an arranged one upon her father's death bed, signed by a lawyer and it was notarized. She bowed her head into this loveless marriage, however, John became a man who took what he wanted. Although it didn't take much convincing, Peggy practically ran to John and the two indulged in a love affair.

They never announced it, but when Peg became pregnant with their first child, there was no mistaking that the child was John's as the babe looked exactly like him. With a son, John envisioned a world of studying sciences with that child. Testing theories, making mistakes which would lead to revolutionary inventions. John had many hopes for his son. Of course, this torrid affair caught wind when the child looked nothing like the man Peggy was married to.

He scorned her and the child. He demanded satisfaction and a divorce that branded her a harlot He prevented her from ever remarrying, stinging both John and Peggy in the process. John vowed to remain beside her, as the man milked every ounce from her and left her dry with a babe to support. John supported her conducting freelance clinical work, getting into multiple scruples with his father due to his choice in lifestyle. John had no intention of making his father aware of the family he had tucked away.

A year or so after the dust had settled, the couple was welcomed again with a daughter. A daughter that looked like her mother. To protect Peg, John lied and claimed the two were married to give his children his last name and to protect the woman he loved from being verbally stoned. In his heart, they were married. He bought Peg a ring, only for prying eyes and ears to correct them. John's father got involved, the scandal was enough to cause shame to the Membrane family. Those children were the product of sin, however, John had done something clever and notarized his last name on both of their certificates. Products of sin they may have been, but they were his children.

With his son going on two years of age, the young tot was capable of putting together his tinker toys. John took the toy apart for his son to do it again and he fashioned the toy in another way. While holding their daughter, Peggy would find John laying on his stomach with their son, piecing the toys together. If she were still alive today, she would recant how his eyes shined with so much pride.

John's father couldn't keep him away from his family. But, war could. Every capable man was to report to respond and fight for the sake of his country. Ships were being taken out to sea and being a General's son with the extensive and proper training, John was one of the more capable men for the job. Ultimately, John left a tearful Peggy and his children.

 _"They're better off without you," John's father said to him. "Meet another woman and do it right. Those bastard children will never be entitled to anything in this lifetime. It's best you forget. You're doing them more harm than good by being around."_

* * *

For years, John wondered how Dib and Gazlene Membrane fared. They were only five when he left. The world was cruel, and the war hardened John. His father passed away and left John the battalion, he left John his fate. His father had made certain his dreams of science and Peggy were dashed away. While they were separated, he was never able to forget. But his children wouldn't recognize him now, and perhaps it was best if they forgot him. That was seemingly the first and last time John gave himself fully to anyone after that. Poor Martha, he cared for her, enough to marry her and give the good woman a life she deserved. A good woman deserved a good life.

He leaned forward into his desk and finally opened the letter. He read through the contents.

"Dear General Membrane,

May this letter find you and the troops in good health. I ask, if you can spare my husband, please send him home. I am three months along with our first child and I would like him present for a little while, at least to see his son or daughter come into the world. It came as just as much of a surprise, if you can imagine. We didn't think it would happen at all!

Please tell him his wife misses him. I would have written him personally, but what a way to find out through a letter. No, this is much better discovered in person. General, thank you for keeping my husband safe.

Best wishes, Amelia."

John Membrane leaned back in his seat, unable to help the smile that crossed his features. So, he was to be a grandfather. He had been present for the wedding, and perhaps a proper wedding present should have been an explanation as opposed to a sum of money towards a home of their own, but, Dib wouldn't allow anything to spoil his day. There was no good explanation for what he had done. He let his father's words sink into him. Now he realized, when it was too late, that there was plenty he could do for them.

"Sir, come quick. They're having a duel on the outskirts of the camp," one of the officers proclaimed as he nearly fell into the tent.

John furrowed his brows. "Who is having a duel?"

"Laurent Clemens with Dib as his second versus Dwicky Lee and Zim as his second."

John felt like he was always in a position of authority, always in a position of parentage. He looked after these boys as though they were his own. He even received the childish, 'you're not my father!' from the younger recruits. The look he gave Dib caused his face to fall, though it was quickly recovered and hardened.

"Dib, meet me inside." He turned away from the four of them, embarrassed, ashamed, and disappointed that Dib would amount to this. With a shake of his head, he walked back into the tent with Dib at his heels.

"Son-"

Dib tensed before shooting back, "Son? I am not your son." John hardened at those words and continued just the same.

"What were you thinking? I told you and your little friends to leave it be! You shot one of your commanding officers!"

"You're right. Laurent should have shot him in the mouth," Dib tensed. "And if that alien wasn't goading him along…"

"Son." He assumed Dib meant immigrant. He assumed Zim was one, as well as the friends he had made.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Son," Dib corrected again.

"I think you're well aware that we share kinship." A pregnant pause crossed the two of them. Despite the tent was only so large, the silence was thick enough to cause claustrophobia as the air tightened around father and son. Dib rationalized in his mind that this time would come, he simmered and counted to ten before taking a deep breath and releasing it.

"You left us."

"Not on my decision."

"You never bothered to look for us. You left us to fend for ourselves. I know about our illegitimacy because you and mom never married. I've conducted several interviews. But, fuck, if I ever call you my father. A father is there for his children. He doesn't just go off, disappear, reappear and call himself daddy."

John stared at him, silently, almost defeated. He couldn't argue with the young man. Had he been smarter, even more assertive than he had been, then history would have written out very differently. However, he acted in the manner he had, and therefore, these were the consequences. The past had a funny way of catching up with someone and making them choke on their mistakes, which led to regrets, and resent if someone allowed it.

"And," John began, "that is why you shall be a better father than me."

Dib quirked a brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Did John dare say anything further? Dib was progressing as a hostile force, worn out from the questions encircling his mind. He could try, right now, to reason like a father but, a force stopped him. He assumed the force was Peg as he lifted his gaze towards the ceiling of the tent. She and Martha warned him not to push his boundaries at this moment. So, he wouldn't.

"Go home, Dib."

Dib, exhausted, spoke and explained in the clearest voice he could manage. "You make this claim that I'm your son. You keep me here locked behind this desk and I am not a little boy. You missed out on those moments. Give me a command. You give these idiots like Dwicky a shred of power and look what happened? Entrust me. You've seen me handle the soldiers. I can handle the men."

Membrane shook his head. "War itself is too great a risk. There are many people who are counting on you. Your wife needs you alive. Son, I need you alive-"

That word was enough to set Dib off. This man had no right to address Dib the way he was. Father. Son. They were titles and none that Membrane had earned to wear.

It felt like a device that was ready to set itself off. It curdled and bubbled within him, feeling itself rise towards the back of his throat. He was either going to spew bile, or acerbic and lacerating words.

"Call me son _one more time_!" He stress and shouted in warning, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He felt force fed the reality and maybe that's what Dib needed in the long run. But, not now. Now, he didn't want to hear the truth and perhaps seeing him this way would register, because it was apparent that talking was getting them nowhere.

Membrane saw this and straightened himself. One man managed to bring another to tears. He was starving for a place in this world and he himself felt responsible for it. Dib had so much untapped potential, but lacked any sound guidance. Perhaps in given time, they could make amends, but now wouldn't be then.

"Go home," John repeated, clearing his throat. "That's an order from your commander. Dib, just go home."

He realized his hands were balled into fists and he was trembling. The younger Membrane stood there, still. The moment had frozen in itself. He stopped referring to himself as his father and he was somewhat relieved. Perhaps some normalcy could return and Dib go back to being a soldier.

* * *

But first, Dib returned to The Ryder household as a husband. He walked the dirt pathway, his jacket slung over his shoulder as he looked down. He ruminated what was said back in camp, turning it over and again. His father was alive, they were brought together for the same cause. His father was a General, and he looked up to him as one. The way he was certain he looked up to his own father. This was something to tell Gaz, and he wondered how she would react.

He heard his name and slowed his walking, adjusting his eyes to see Amelia bent over at the gate, waving to him with a wide smile upon his face. He picked his feet up against the pavement, hearing the crunch of the twigs beneath his boots until he saw her up close. Something was different about her, she was glowing and that caused him to smile. Her face brought him back to what he needed to remember was important. He created a new life, and as he looked down upon her form, that meant both figuratively and literally.

She was pregnant.

It took him a moment to now process this new bit of information. He had thoughts of eventually starting a family, but now to be presented with this to his face. His family would begin sooner than he anticipated, but he wasn't disappointed. Husband and wife didn't exchange words, but Dib threw open the gate and embraced his wife. He felt her form tremble in his arms, he kissed the top of her head the way he did before they were married.

"How long have you known?"

"Oh, about a little over a month?" She sheepishly grinned. Dib lowered her, lowered his hands to rest them upon her swell.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she replied, her sheepish grin replaced with a more confident one, placing her hands over his. "I knew you wouldn't return until the war was over and this vendetta against Zim was squashed."

Dib shook his head, knowing he would continue to fight both wars. "This is more important. Amelia, you and this baby…" She placed a finger to his lips and leaned forward to press her forehead against his. She decided to change the subject, while still remaining on the topic of babies. She knew Dib would follow her lead.

"The baby is a week late coming. Gaz has taken to bedrest, and the doctor says the babe should come any day now. I'm certain Zim will join her soon."

"If the bastard cares enough," Dib scoffed, tightening his hold to where his own child laid protected. "Besides, this alien child…"

Amelia frowned at that. "We'll handle it. Although Skoodge has been writing to Gretchen, believe it or not. He says he bears no harm towards us and to remain inside of the house for as long as we are able and to not take the babe outside until one of them comes."

"Why am I not surprised? The coward is more taken with dueling to the death than his own."

"Dueling to the death?"

Dib blinked, realizing he had said too much before thinking quickly and swept Amelia off her feet, carrying her inside of the house. "Dib, what did you mean by that?" She wasn't going to let this go.

"By what? Sweeping you off into the house? For as long as I'm here, you won't be on yours." Dib grinned.

Amelia sighed. At least he was safe, although he looked troubled. It either had something to do with Zim or General Membrane. She would speak to him after and when he was ready. A heavy groan from the house told the couple something was wrong. After asking him to put her down, Amelia was still small enough to make it up the stairs at a moderate pace. Excited cries came from the top of the stairs.

"Fetch Dr. Hooper. I think this is it," Angelica said from the top of the stairs.

"No, we leave Dr. Hooper out of this," Amelia said, giving Angelica a warning look. "We've agreed to handle this inhouse."

"Amelia, but what if the birth goes amiss?" Angelica asked cautiously.

"Something could go terribly wrong," Gretchen agreed.

Birth was a natural business. It was part of the life cycle, but one Dib was told he couldn't be part of. The men were to wait in the parlor while the women tended to business. He argued that that was his sister, especially upon hearing her painful groans and the shouting of the water breaking. Jacob placed a hand upon Dib's shoulder and motioned for him to sit.

"We need to trust in the women. Your sister naturally knows what to do," Jacob attempted to assure him.

Nancy gathered Amelia and Gretchen into the birthing chamber. Angelica, still young, was told to watch over the little ones. Nancy stationed herself between Gaz's legs, saying a prayer for the child to be delivered safely.

"Enough lip service and get this thing out of me!" Gaz wailed. Nancy patted her outer thigh gently.

"You are looking beautifully, Gazlene. Just continue to breathe like we've been practicing."

Amelia was amazed at how calm she was. Her heart was in her throat. While she had seen the births of her younger siblings, Gaz was bringing a whole other species into the world. Would the babe be healthy? Would the babe be disfigured? She and Gretchen exchanged glances, taking a deep breath and waiting it out between the fluids and the blood as the babe tore her, like the life vessel she was. Gaz hesitated at one point, too exhausted to go onward. Nancy attempted to coax the new mother, rubbing her knee gently and reinforcing how splendidly she was doing.

If she waited too long, danger could come to the child and none of the Ryder women could risk that. Gretchen stepped outside, fanning herself from the rise in temperature and Gaz's shrieks caused her to be slightly lightheaded. She found Dib leaning against the banister across from the door and made eye contact with Gretchen as she straightened.

"Dib…"

"How is she?" He asked, peering over to see if he could see anything happening. Instead, all he saw was Mrs. Ryder sitting at the edge of the bed and Amelia wiping her brow. Gaz's legs were bent as she was positioned as close to the edge as she was able in order to successfully deliver. Gretchen closed the door and looked back up at him.

"Soon enough," she replied, and tucked a stray hair from her eyes and behind her ear.

And no sooner had she said that, Gaz's cries could be heard from even behind the door.

"That's it! Just another push! I see the head!"

Dib picked his head up, wanting to offer his services, but Gretchen refused him admittance. Another few grunts and cries, a new set of cries flooded the area. The women gasped, including Gretchen who was outside and quickly went inside, closing the door behind her. Gaz fell backward onto the bed. Nancy cleaned the babe off with a warm towel and swaddled her in a plush blanket.

"We have waited quite a while for you," Nancy laughed softly. The room was darkened by the dimming candlelight. None could see the exact color of the child, but the rosy cheeks were enough for Nancy to judge the child as healthy. Perfect lungs as she wailed; all fingers and toes accounted for and wiggling for her mother.

Amelia rounded the corner to check on Gaz. She was unresponsive, though exhausted. Amelia feared that she had succumbed to childbirth as many women before her had. Bringing life into the world often exchanged for death. The steady rise and fall of her chest indicated she had fallen asleep, even though the cries of her child that wouldn't stop until the child was brought to her breast for its first nourishment.

"She's asleep."

"Just watch," Nancy whispered, rocking the babe as she approached Gaz, laying the tiny form upon her chest. Gaz's eyes opened to look down at her child and slowly began to sit upright, taking her fully into her arms. A little girl. Those eyelashes and features weren't fooling anyone. A thick head of violet hair, two thicker black stubs, assuming those would be her antennae; however, Gaz would find a way to hide them from human sight.

The baby possessed light green skin. Gaz blinked, did she see that right? Shuffling closer to the light, she eyed Amelia who lit another set of candles and settled them to Gaz. The idea of this child's existence was surreal. A harmless baby. Light green skin confirmed, to which Gaz sucked in some air. The baby opened her eyes and revealed the reddest eyes she had ever seen, her father's eyes. Eyes that would become troublesome if she didn't think quickly.

They could play off eye irritation for the time being and she was certain they would believe it. She just had to hide for a little while here in this room with her daughter. Amelia promised to care for her. Gaz wanted to believe her.

Nancy had exited the room to reveal the news to the new uncle and the remainder of the family. Amelia heard voices asking to see the baby. She rubbed Gaz's shoulder gently before exiting the room and closed the door behind her. A hybrid alien baby was born in her parent's home. How could she protect this? Her belly unsettled to which she rubbed her abdomen gently. She pushed herself away from the back of the door to the parlor where she saw the others readying to head for the room.

"Mother and child have both endured a great ordeal. Perhaps we should allow Uncle Dib to see his niece and we shall see how they are feeling to visitors in the morning," Amelia suggested as Dib quickly walked past his wife and entered the room to see this miracle for himself.

"That is more than fair enough," Nancy replied with a smile. "Amelia, why don't you rest yourself?"

"I'm still feeling quite spry, mother. I'll retire shortly. You did amazing tonight," she replied and embraced her mother before disbanding the rest of the house and returning to the birthing room. Dib increased the lighting with another few candles and caught sight of the baby. He had never seen a baby alien before. He wondered what one looked like, and now he felt he would receive the opportunity.

"She looks like you," Dib offered encouragingly as he sat down gingerly at his sister's side.

"She looks more like Zim," Gaz replied, her hair limp and disheveled around her face.

"That was to be expected. We just didn't know to what extent. We can cover this up…" Dib attempted to rattle off excuses. Gaz reached a free arm that wasn't cradling her daughter and rested it upon her brother's hand.

"We can't stop the inevitable. Zim will want to take us away from here when he finds out about her arrival," Gaz said as she adjusted the baby girl in her arms.

"I won't let him," her brother countered.

"We both know we can't stop him."

"Gaz…"

She shook her head. "This is for the best, Dib. Zim will know how to protect her."

"But, who's protecting you?" The baby yawned, which caused Dib to look down at the half alien child. Her skin was so fair, she herself was so fragile. She opened her eyes, and while Dib managed to get himself lost in the eyes of his niece, he reminded himself that this was only the beginning.

* * *

Zim knew within his stomach he should return to Gaz. The lack of her response to his letters was cause for concern, although he assumed she knew what to do in terms of birthing their child. After all, he was cracked from a tube with machines to deliver. He thought about what their child would look like, the kind of individual it would train to be. He was ready to celebrate with a round of Dib's departure, when Madge and Skoodge joined him in the tent. The two fellow invaders eyed one another, having received the word to retreat from the mission and return home for reassignment. The Tallest wasted little to no time.

"Ah, Zim, you should contact the Tallest when you're able," Skoodge muttered.

"Hm? The Tallest? Why? It isn't time yet for me to make my weekly report to them of my progress. Although, granted, I'm not prepared with any great news, but perhaps they have guidance for me. Besides, I'm too thrilled to be rid of the Dib-Beast for a while." Zim leaned back in his seat the way Madge found him that night over the letters from Dib's sister. Reluctantly, the taller invader devised a plan to help conceal the baby when she came. There was no hiding her when she arrived.

"Zim, it's important to know that whatever happens, we won't leave your side," Madge assured with his hands clasped together at his waist.

Zim could feel his antennae droop from beneath his disguise, which he began to shed. They were the only ones around. Those words from Madge were ominous and foreboding. Zim rose from the chair and crossed the tent to a patch of dirt that seemed dug and reburied. He stamped his foot for the ground to separate, enough for Zim to descend downwards and through a series of tunnels until he reached the belly of the base within the base.

Madge's words rang hollow to Zim, although haunted him. That phrase, assuring as it was meant to be wasn't. He patched the call to Irk, seeing Tallest Purple on screen instead of Red.

"Hey, stupid, get on the screen. It's Zim," Purple said in hushed tones, offering Zim a lopsided grin before pushing Red into view, who was halfway into a burrito.

"I was eating," he scowled after swallowing and tossed the food aside for a servicer to clean. He cleared his throat and looked down at him. Red took a moment to study the invader, who appeared to have grown another several inches since he had seen him. He had always thought Zim would forever remain small and unworthy. His frame was more lithe, and his antennae more sharp. Red's lips thinned.

"Zim, we have been informed by an unknown, outside source that you have killed nearly twenty of your own kin. Are you aware of that?" he asked in his domineering, deep, powerful voice meant to intimidate.

"I consider it "natural selection" as the humans call it. The weaker invaders weed themselves out," Zim explained, placing his hands behind his back. "My Tallest, why am I to contact you this evening? To explain natural selection?"

Red straightened and stared at Zim, who quirked a brow in return. Since when did Zim sound both refined and confident?

"Yes, Zim, I've heard of natural selection. Which is why, because due to your actions, we're selecting to abort this mission."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, My Tallest," Zim retorted.

"Oh, we can and we have. We have made a wide spread announcement to return to Irk. Invaders are no longer to participate in Operation Earth Shatter."

"Then Zim shall commence Operation Earth Snatch."

"You dare to be defiant, Zim?" Red countered.

"My Tallest, I'm so close to finishing the humans off. You _must_ continue to support me in my mission." Zim rocked back and forth on his heels.

"That's asking us to back you taking down your own people," Red sneered.

Red couldn't back down. Especially not to Zim. This was dangerous. However, without resources, Zim wouldn't last long on his own. Red swallowed.

"Zim. Return to for reassigning, or face exile. You can't last without resources for long. Eventually, you'll succumb."

"I don't think I will," Zim replied simply.

"You're no invader, Zim. You were never meant to be assigned this mission. This was for Madge and Skoodge. You tagged along because, well, you need to cling onto something. You're like a Blorg Leech. No one likes Blorg Leeches, Zim. I don't even know how you got out of your first banishment."

Both Irkens stared one another down as the truth was finally released. Zim appeared unfazed by Red's speech.

"I shall prove to you that I am an Invader, My Tallest. The blood of leadership runs through my veins. Well, I have much work to do, a war to conquer. So, Invader Zim, signing off!" The Irken saluted before ending the call.

Red balked as the transmission ended. Purple frowned and glanced at his partner.

"Continue to retrieve the Invaders back home. Like I said, Zim cannot survive long without resources." He began to descend from the main chamber and head outward and to his bedchamber. Purple glanced toward the screen, quiet to take the conversation in. He was an observer, while Red was a talker. That's why they made a good team, and started that back in the academy. They balanced one another out.

Zim's increase in height was a concern. Any Taller and he would be a match for them. Perhaps he did carry the blood of an invader, a defective invader, within his veins. Purple would have to conduct more research on that in order to successfully take Zim down. Leadership was a strong word, and perhaps Zim wasn't handled properly back in the academy. If the theory Purple was brewing in his mind stood any ground, then they were in trouble. Purple glanced behind his shoulder before making a few more calls. First, Skoodge and Madge.


	11. Guns & Ships & Baby Names

So, I finally figured out how I want for this fic to end.

I almost definitely want more Tallest involvement in this.

But, in the meantime, enjoy Gir appearing again and hunting for the baby! Zim names his daughter! I think I've recaptured some of the Dib/Zim feel in the way they argue in this chapter. I also tried sprinkling some essence of comedy. You guys be the judge!

I look forward to your feedback!

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven- Guns & Ships**

Most men hoped for sons. Zim was sure that his child would be a boy; he couldn't see himself having a daughter. First off, he wouldn't know what to do with one. Now that he was free from the Tallest hold, he decided to do this his own way. Zim requested for absence and called for Gir, who disguised himself as a green horse and came rushing towards the camp, mewing like a cat. Zim grimaced at this, although he relented. He needed a speedier service than traditional horseback that would require days of travel and Zim's squeedlyspooch informed him that there wasn't time for the slow, traditional way.

"Okay, Gir. Bring me to my son!" Zim commanded. Madge and Skoodge glanced at one another before Zim took off, the gaggle of men that had rallied to see Zim off wished him luck. Zim grinned, if he had that kind of support alone just from the impending birth of his smeet, he would have them eating out of the palm of his Irken hand in no time at all. He would show the Tallest.

These humans were easier to fool. He stopped asking Madge for the disguising serum he had created, although informed Madge to arrive the next day to mask his son. He would hide Gaz in his base, and would arrange for the computer to take care of the rest while he was gone. Once the invasion was complete, he would be completely faithful to his family. It would be a learning experience, and having this skillset on top of his invader training would make him untouchable.

It only took Zim hours to arrive. He hopped off Gir, who shrilled about the newest arrival. Zim quickly tossed him another disguise with a cloak and beard.

"Where's the baby? BRING OOOOOOON THE BABY!"

"Quiet Gir!" Zim hushed. "Don't make a sound. You're to be the physician I've brought along. Do you understand me? You will analyze my son and fix whatever problems there are!"

Upon the salute of his faithful companion, Zim struck the doorknocker several times before waiting impatiently as Amelia opened the door and placed her hand to her chest as she stepped back with a gasp.

"Mr. Zim. You've arrived."

"Yes, yes, _Wife of the Man I Hate the Most_. I've arrived to see my Gaz and my son. Where are they nesting? _Tell me_."

Amelia cleared her throat upon hearing the assumption of gender. "Mr. Zim, there is something you should know about your child."

Zim brought himself to Amelia's level. "Has harm come to my mine? Is he horridly grotesque? Did you damage him in the birth?"

The advancement caused Amelia to step back once more, granting Zim access inside. "No, no. Of course not."

"Then this conversation is over. I'll see my child now."

"Zim."

Zim picked his head up to see Dib standing at the foot of the stairs. His gaze was fixed on the other, glaring down at the alien in the foyer. The men proceeded in a staring contest before Zim shook his head. The distraction was enough for Gir to toddle along past Zim and Dib, climb up the stairs as Amelia watched the little man in action. The cloak trailed behind him, Gir tripping over his beard once before scanning for Gaz and the baby.

"Baby!"

"Damn it!" Dib cursed and ran after the robot, which reminded him of the green dog he saw a while back. They were just about the same height.

"Come back here!"

"I gosta find tha babeh!" Gir squealed, stopping at the door, which rested at the end of the hallway.

Amelia hurried up the stairs after her husband and the robot, hearing the whimpers and cries of the newborn behind the door. Amelia had just put both mother and daughter to sleep and sighed in defeat, glaring at the tiny bearded man.

"Good work, Dr. Gir. You found where they've been hiding. Excellent job, you'll be rewarded handsomely, later."

"YAY!"

"We weren't hiding them, you moron," Dib spat with the following of an eye roll. "My sister and niece are asleep."

"Eh? Niece? Who has a niece?" Zim asked, perplexed.

"I have a niece. You have a daughter, Space Boy."

"Zim has no daughters. Only sons!"

"Zim is about to have a headache after I hit him with the bassinet." Gaz opened the door, appearing less than acceptable, but she cared very little for fashion in her current position post birth.

"You should be in bed," Amelia advised.

"How? With you morons on the other side, waking up the baby. I had no choice but to get up."

"It's not good for you to be up," Amelia challenged. "You just gave birth hours ago."

The last thing Gaz wanted to do was argue with her sister-in-law. She looked up at her brother, who motioned for her to go back into the bedroom. Zim began to follow her inside, taking the cue to be the male and take his mate back to bed. Zim guided Gaz back through the door, ultimately getting his way and neared the bassinet where his child laid.

"Tell me they are fooling Zim and we have a son," the alien said, hopefully. Gaz gave him a hard look before extending her hand as she got back beneath the covers. Zim glanced over at the bassinet and brought the wheeled cart it sat upon closer to the two of them. He angled it towards the candlelight; her hair was beginning to curl around her thick lashes. Zim reached and moved a few curls away to reveal where her antennae would be.

He opened her blankets, to where the baby began to fuss from being disturbed. Zim was determined to see for himself what the baby's sex was. Normally, the curve of the antennae would be a dead giveaway. The child's antennae hadn't yet developed fully and that was okay, he supposed. He used his teeth to pull his glove off, making the physical contact with his child and quickly withdrew his hand back.

"We have a girl," Zim said, flatly.

"What's wrong with a girl?" Gaz asked.

Zim didn't answer right away, continuing his inspection. His animal-like instinct took over, caring for the babe and undoing the final locks of the swaddle, revealing the anticipated sex. He began to wrap the baby back up, fumbling as he went along. Gaz smacked his hand away and proceeded to put the baby back together. The baby began to cry, Gir peered over at the edge of the bassinet, wanting to see the baby fully like a proud older brother robot. Gaz concentrated, new to covering a baby before she began to wail.

Too late. She was in full crying mode and Zim panicked; his eyes wide and alert. Gaz groaned and rocked her gently against her chest. The baby would not settle. She offered the bundle to Zim, who initially withdrew from the idea until Gaz practically forced the baby into his arms. Dib and Amelia hovered by the ajar door, Dib keeping a protective eye over his sister and niece.

The cries began to settle, Zim supported her head, curling the tiny form to his chest. She was delicate, small, reminded her so much of himself when he was born. Although, instead of tears he could form complete sentences. He wondered if the lack of a PAK had anything to do with her lack of speech. She was able to survive without one, breathing fully on her own. He reached behind gently as he made effort to soothe his smeet.

Then her eyes opened. The perfect pair of Irken eyes caused Zim to still. He sat on the bed with the babe in his arms and their eyes connected. She reached out her naked arms, extending for his face as Zim leaned down to see what it exactly was that she wanted. Her small hands made contact and proceeded to feel his face; Zim heard the heartbeat that sounded from Gaz's womb. His eyes and squeedlyspooch softened.

"Does she have a name, yet?" Zim inquired, feeling himself smile for what felt like the first time in decades. He grinned in triumph, he smirked in arrogance, but he never fully or truly smiled. As life often exchanged for death and vice versa, perhaps the falling out with the Tallest made room for Zim to focus on himself and that now included this baby. Nothing was more important.

"Not yet," Gaz replied. "I waited for you."

"Very well. I shall name our daughter," Zim decided and held the baby to where he could see her fully to give her a worthy name. Eyeing Gaz, he wondered if it should be Irken or if it should be human. Either way, he would decide on one to settle the score.

"What's her name?" Gir asked, sitting like a dog at the feet of Zim, facing him and adjusting his head to see him with the baby.

"I'm deciding, Gir."

"What's her naaaame?" The robot's squeal pitched, the baby's stubs twitching as she was deciding whether or not she liked the sound.

"I'm picking one out, Gir," Zim said through gritted teeth as the baby decidedly yawned. He was hopeful that she would keep her eyes open a little longer so he could see her Irken beauty.

"Gazima," Zim tested.

Gaz quirked a brow. "Gazima? Are you trying to ruin our daughter?"

"What? I'm naming her after you."

"Don't. She deserves something….unique. Like Zeta or Zinovia."

"There was a great Invader a long time ago by the name of Zinovia they used to tell us about in the nursery," Zim informed her, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open before she lost the battle and closed them. "We can always call her Ziva for short." He concluded with a shrug.

"I think it's fitting," Gaz agreed. "Ziva."

"I like Zinny!" The robot squealed; both mother and father hushed the robot child.

* * *

"Ziva?" Dib mouthed to his wife, who elbowed him.

Amelia pulled Dib away from the door and took his arm as she guided him towards their bedroom.

"Can we trust him here?"

"He's been subdued by his daughter's charm. I think the danger has passed," Amelia smiled and rested her head upon his shoulder. "I'm glad to see you're so open to the idea of a girl."

"The sex can wander either way. Zim's _swimmers_ just so happened to be stronger on the feminine scale."

"That's quite scientific of you," Amelia pointed out. Dib looked down at her and blushed, actually blushed, which earned a grin from her in return.

"It's obvious. You get either a boy or a girl. I don't think your womb carries the tools that make the decision. That's the man's job. Moreover, science has always been part of me. My dad…"

"I know," she whispered.

Dib shook his head. "I swear to both of you, I'll be around. I promise. I won't miss birthdays, or milestones. I'll be supportive in whatever hobby our child wants to partake in. I'll be supportive of you in your pregnancy. I won't do what he did."

"Shhh," she sensed the growing hysteria, stopping them before the bathroom and embraced him, standing on the tips of her toes. "Ease yourself."

"I'm having a hard time shaking it, Amelia." Amelia proceeded to lead him towards their bedroom. Soon she would suggest a home of their own as this house was crowded enough, although as much as she wanted her own with Dib, she had Gaz to think about until protection was acquired for her and little Zinovia.

"Shake what?" She asked, opening the bedroom door and lighting a series of candles so they didn't have to undress in the dark.

"I think you know what." He took a pause before shrugging his coat off and hanging it on the back of their desk chair. "My father. The fact that he's...present."

"My mother once told me that every human is entitled to make one mistake in their lifetime that they would hold onto and regret for the remainder of their days. Some people make several that they could never amend for," Amelia said as she unlaced the front of her dress. "Several that catch up to them and choke them. One mistake is enough."

She watched Dib sigh heavily and slump onto the bed, sagging into the mattress. Leaving her dress halfway unlaced, she climbed onto the bed and slid her arms around him from behind. "Your father is a human who has made one mistake that has followed him and he regrets. Some men meet their children and never apologize, they never make amends."

"You've never had your father leave you, Amelia."

"No, I have not. However, my mother has taken children in, who have been unwanted by their families. She has cared for and matched children up with families who are better suited to care for them. We have gone without food so little mouths could have. These are the children who question who they are, where they came from, and why. Your father has made a grave error, perhaps one he never expected to come find him.

In this lifetime, we are left to make choices. We can continue to hold grudges against those who have done wrong by us, or we can forgive and proceed with our lives in peace."

"I'll have to have some time to think about it."

"Take all the time you need." She pressed her lips to the back of his ear before withdrawing herself and proceeded to undress into her nightwear, unpinning her hair and letting it fall downward and past her shoulders. Amelia felt his eyes on her, her fingers lingering down to her swell. He rose from the bed, hearing the creak from the springs and his arms behind her, bare chest against her back as he hugged her from behind.

"Best of wives, best of women," he whispered, having a feeling that wouldn't be the last time he would utter those words to her. "I can't thank you enough."

She shifted to turn around to face him, extending her hand to his cheek. "We are not perfect beings. Dents will be made in your armor, but it can still be polished. You have the ability to still accomplish remarkable things, despite all of your challenges. Your father has returned in your life and he seeks to rectify his wrongdoing. If the tides were turned, and you were the father who had wronged your son….wouldn't you want forgiveness?" She leaned forward to give him a kiss before heading for their bed, undoing the covers and slipping beneath the sheets.

Dib leaned against the chair, watching her form move into their bed before sitting down at the desk, where the stationary was set up, along with a quill and inkwell. Amelia always had his station set up for him so it was ready for letter writing or penning down a thought. He hesitated before dipping the quill into the inkwell and penned down a letter he may or may not send.

 _"Dear General Membrane,_

 _I'd like to announce the arrival of your first grandchild, a girl. Her name is Zinovia and she looks every bit like her mother. After much deliberation, I have reviewed our conversation. I need time to accept the reality of our situation, if you are willing to give me that. Instant gratification is not an option presently._

 _My main objective is to inform you of your granddaughter. Whether or not Gazlene is accepting of your essence into the life of_ her _daughter is another entity. Mother and daughter are doing well. I write this to you now, as well, because I'm certain you're already aware, but wife is expecting our first child. Upon my delegation, I will inform you when my son will arrive._

 _Not that I would ever do this to my own, but if it were to ever happen, I would want to be forgiven….especially if the circumstances were out of my hands._

 _Your son, Dib."_

He eyed the letter. It was choppy, as were his feelings. They were choppy and scattered. He would discuss with Gaz before sending the letter. The child, he assumed, would be better disguised if their father decided to come see her. Although, the baby would probably be seen as her father and looked upon as foreign as an olive skinned Italian. He snorted. Zim probably could pass off as an Italian if he wanted to. Because, no one believed in aliens. They believed what they wanted to.

This placed a wrench in his plans. Now that his niece was brought into the world, he would have to spare her. Then, how did he explain killing her father? He closed his eyes, not wanting to think about that now. He should have been happy his own child was to enter the world. Eventually, he would have to return to business. He was the only one to acknowledge Zim was an alien and he needed to be stopped.

* * *

It was a break no one expected to happen. Things were as quiet as they could be, so Porter Wynn traveled back to France for more weaponry while things had dimmed. General Membrane put in his request ahead of time and received a salute from Porter Wynn. Blake and Laurent practiced their swordsmanship, Membrane wanting his men mastered in all elements and aspects of battle. He placed scientific formulas into marksmanship, which showed relative success and that made the elder Membrane happy.

Porter returned with a few French vessels to follow him, soldiers to accompany. Friends and family, Membrane assumed, and the helped was welcomed. Porter jumped onto the bay and waved his friends in greeting.

"General, may I request audience with you? I have an idea."

"Welcome back, soldier, right this way." Membrane clapped the young man on the back before guiding him towards the camp. Blake jumped onto Porter and clung to him in a hug as the larger man nearly toppled the smaller Frenchman over. Laurent chuckled and entered the tent with the other three men.

"I have a plan. I rendezvoused with General Rothbart, who gave us this present of the ships and ammunition. We have the full support of France on our side." He hurried, pulling blueprints and maps from his satchel and brushed away the other paper goods on the table to spread his plans out.

"We can take on Britain at Yorktown. They have an Achilles heel in their lack of men there. If we invade by cutting them off at sea, we'll win."

"How did he come to have this information?" Membrane inquired skeptically.

"Spies. But, there is one other thing that we need." Laurent picked his head up, Blake leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Rather, not a what, but a who."

"Who?" Membrane asked.

"We need Dib." Membrane froze at those words.

"And the only way to get Dib back is to give him what he wants. Otherwise, it'll just be a continuing clash, as what's been," Laurent chimed in.

Membrane placed both palms upon the table, staring down at the map and the lines drawn to show the plan Rothbart had drawn out. It was insane to not go ahead with. Laurent was also right.

"Lieutenant Colonel Clemens, I do believe you may have a point. Can you draft a letter for me?" Laurent stared hard at Membrane before offering the man a smile, followed by a salute.

Porter and Blake eyed one another before backing away towards the tent's exit, leaving the two men to draft the letter that would gain them one of their recognized leaders back.

"Dib Membrane,

I have troops waiting for your command. If you return now, we can end this. And I'm afraid I cannot win this war without your guidance and sharp eye. These men will yield for you, I promise. The sooner you return, the sooner we win this war before the birth of your first child. Allow this child to enter a war free world."

Laurent held the letter out for Membrane to sign, the men eyeing the contents and sighing. Sending a letter like this was risky, but they had little option. Laurent, Blake, and Porter would be more than satisfied to fight alongside Dib, and they had the support of their fellow troops.

No matter what, the world would never be the same.


	12. History, The Battle, and What Comes Next

Eh, again, I struggle with battle scenes. But, I think I did okay, overall. Definitely more Zim-centric. I don't know how you are going to feel about how I approached The Tallest. But, I'm certain you'll tell me in your reviews, hah. I also like the way I molded Ida the Lab Aid. Yes, more serious Purple, but he's an Irken on a Mission!

How will Zim really feel about all of the praise Dib will receive for all of his hard work? Who are Zim's maternal and paternal life givers? All life starts from somewhere. So, where did Zim's?

Stay tuned! Please leave your wonderful reviews!

* * *

 **Chapter 12- History Has its Eyes on You/The Battle of Yorktown/What Comes Next?**

Tallest Purple hovered down the corridor towards the basement archives. He tapped his claw against several files. Getting Red involved was too much of a stretch, as he already suffered migraines from Zim and his numerous, dangerous incidents. He decided to take matters into his own hands, finding Zim's file and skimmed through it.

All was silent for the occasional pipe that dripped. Lights flickered; one would assume the Massive would be up-to-date on all technological placements on the ship. But, he assumed some took further precedence than others. Even so, he had enough light to begin his own semi-mission. All of Zim's training schedules, his infractions. To those who didn't understand, Zim was an annoyance, a menace, a pest they could do without and perhaps that's what Red and Purple believed, as well. They went with the flow without further examination.

There were too many Irkens to give attention to one specific, or give them special attention at all. Each Irken was assigned and treated the same. However, the more Purple thought about it, perhaps Zim had a different purpose in life than an Invader. It was possible to have been wrongly assigned to Invader, when he should have been in training for another role.

He ranked high in aggression and his testosterone levels were extraordinary; so he figured out that was why he was automatically assigned as one. He ranked nearly as high in intelligence, which would have placed in as a diplomat, or part of the Irken Intelligence Unit, or another Irken position of high rating. The intelligence levels caught him off guard. Then again, when one was raised to think they were less than, an individual had a tendency to believe it. It wasn't that Zim was born defective. No child is born defective, nor are they born bad. It's how they were raised. Purple closed his eyes. There was negligence on Zim's behalf and he wondered how many others there were.

Red would never see it that way. His choice was to rid of the defects and make room for those who could wield a gun and serve their planet. He and his partner were two terrible extremes in that regard. He laughed a lot off, and he tried to rectify many of the issues. He would have to handle this delicate matter privately, because now Zim was a threat to Irk.

He closed the file and took it with him, his brain scoured the possibilities of what Zim was meant to be. He was repressed in his functionality, hence the explanation for the explosive episodes of haywire. Maybe if he understood the origins of the Irken's DNA samples, that would give better explanation.

It wasn't that Irkens mated. Maybe a long time ago that was an option, but since their own technology advanced, the Irkens were made by others providing DNA samples selected at random. Zim's PAK would retain all of his biological information, as everything was infused in the nifty device behind their backs. He opened the file again as he ascended to the floor above where he heard the bubbling of serums and antidotes, looking through to see if there was another clue to this puzzle. When this was all over, he was figuring out a way to simplify the system.

"My Tallest!" A lab assistant squeaked, dropping to her knees in a bow. Snapping out of his zone, Purple blinked and glanced down at the trembling lab assistant.

"Why are you on the floor, Lab Aid?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"I've been told to drop on my knees in your presence, sir!"

Purple blinked at that, slightly uncomfortable with this female on her knees. "….Well, get up."

She picked her head up, curled antennae bobbing with her head as her pink eyes made contact with him. "My Tallest?"

"No need to be on your knees in my presence. What's your name?"

"Ida, My Tallest," she replied, picking herself back up onto her feet. "What brings you to my sector, sire?'

"I need some information ran on a recently exiled invader."

"Would that be Invader Zim, sir?"

Purple sighed. "News travels fast, doesn't it?"

"When it is of the invader who nearly perished the Mother Planet? Indeed."

Purple sighed and motioned over towards the computer, waving the file to get her attention. "All Invader files have been transported to the ship. I need DNA information on Zim. Tallest Red is not to know of this, do we have an understanding?"

Ida quirked a neatly sculpted brow, adjusting the belt at her waist before nodding to confirm and proceeded to type away into the computer. Her fingers hastily scanned the keyboard.

"I would hate to have to travel back to Irk for this. I hope that we have something in the database here. Red will know something is amiss if we have to turn back around."

"I don't feel that'll be necessary," Ida replied, her eyes glancing between him and the screen as her fingers conducted the information symphony. "I do believe I have what you're looking for, sire."

Purple tilted the bubble screen towards his face, seeing Zim's image and along with the itemized details provided in the file itself. If he could find out whose DNA had created Zim, it would answer many questions and he would know how to move forward from that point onward. His eyes widened as they landed on the pair of names.

* * *

The sky was cloudy with gunpowder and the smoke that followed gunfire. Bullets flew, peppering the sky. Membrane's troop had been at it for months on end and heading for the end of their provisions. Water was dirty, scarce, and several perished from infected wounds, loss of blood, delirium and starvation.

Being the men of science they were, Membrane and son took to as many of their wounded as they were able, while Dib led his men. Dib wanted to tend to what required his attention first, and as his wife put it, now it was of the Lord's will to save them, as there was only so much he could do. Initially, he took it as a measure of comfort since Dib had a mind of guilt towards the welfare of the others. There was little he could do to protect them; especially when the ammunition was scarce. Porter's funding was running short.

"Maybe we can go and steal some cannons," Laurent attempted to joke with a half-lopped smile, to which Dib frowned and leaned his head down to think.

"There's got to be something we can do," Dib uttered, tossing a bloodied towel down. He needed to stay alive for Amelia's sake, to see the arrival of their child. She wrote to him frequently on her progress.

"The further you stress out over it, the less likely you'll come up with something good," Laurent replied. He fanned himself, the deep August heat was beginning to seep into all of them. Dib rolled his sleeve up, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"That's not helping Laurent," he whispered.

Laurent proceeded to tread carefully upon his suggestion. Each man had a say in the matter, ideas flew around like leaves in the breeze. But, there was one mouth that rambled more than the others. "This is a long shot, but, Zim might have an idea?"

That felt like a stab to the chest. "Fuck Zim. We're not asking Zim for help," Dib sharply replied.

Laurent placed his hands upon his hips. "Well, the good sitting here being frustrated is helping. The war is closing in on us, and men are dying. _Something_ is better than nothing."

"I can't believe you're suggesting this right now." Dib straightened as he threw his hands upward into the air.

"I can't believe you're putting lives at stake because you're holding a grudge against your future brother-in-law."

Dib cringed at that. Laurent was right. While Dib had ideas, they fell short and incomplete. He had managed to get them this far, and history will have it that Dib failed the troops he had fought so hard to obtain. Dib and Laurent eyed one another.

When the gunfire settled to replenish for another day, Dib walked across the grounds to Zim's tent. He had to swallow this pride for this moment. Zim was known for his ideas, no matter how insane they seemed at the time. They managed to work out in the end. That's what worried Dib. The further he studied Zim, the more he realized what a crazed mastermind he actually was.

Zim had blossomed from a nearly five foot crazed megalomaniac who sought power. He exploded with every detail, was the very essence of cannon fire. Now, he was more even tempered and calculated. It unsettled Dib to his very bones. Part of him thought to walk away as he placed his hand at the edge of the tent's fabric. The other part actually wanted to hear where his mind roamed.

"We need to talk."

Zim glanced between Madge and Skoodge. He was in the middle of writing Gaz a letter in regards to their daughter, how she was beginning to teethe and she would soon need another pair of lenses as she was finding ways to remove them on her own. Zim grinned with pride as he read that. She was just as smart as any other Irken smeet and would see about implanting a PAK on her to help her motor skills along.

"Talk about what? Leave Zim be."

"Zim."

"Oh, alright, fine. Skoodge, Madge, take Gir for a walk."

"I can't believe you brought your "dog" with you."

"I can't believe you smell so horrendous. Now come in where we may talk privately." Dib entered the tent, Laurent hung nearby to hear of the result from their discussion. Zim looked up at Dib, fingers touching one another as one long leg crossed over the other. Dib and Zim nearly met at the same height now.

"Zim. I hear you have some ideas on how to end this once and for all?" Dib stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What are you getting at by this? What is your angle?"

"As if I will tell you. But, what I will divulge to you so that one day our children may read how Zim saved them all. One step closer to your impending failure, Dib-Scum."

Dib rolled his eyes at the taunt, knowing the alien was just trying to get a rise out of him.

Zim waved a hand over his desk, setting his letter and inkwell to the side. Dib didn't need to know his private thoughts. As Dib neared to see the decorated map with inkblots and lines. "The plan is this: It involves separating our friends. Skoodge and Laurent will go down to the South. There's a decently structured base there." He took a moment to ponder, pointing to the circled "X" to show. "Madge is the best spy we've got, so he should go with our pitiful muscle, Blake, further north."

If there were any possible way for Dib to cringe further, he would have. Zim was onto something. When he did become so crafty in his design? He remembered when he returned to camp, he had a private discussion with his father who offered him some sagely advice. History would have their eyes on him and all that he did. If Dib slipped in his plans, or motioned the wrong ones, it would be permanently marked. He was warned to be cautious, and that being the hero wasn't everything. Making the right move was.

Dib wondered why he couldn't have both. Zim was the last person he wanted to go to, yet the plan was a good one. He didn't like the idea of splitting them up. But Blake was better than Laurent at spying and Laurent was better with the fire arms. Laurent couldn't hold a poker face to save his life. Dib pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but, it's worth a shot."

"This should have been the way your mind thought a long time ago. How you've gotten all of the attention thus far is beyond me," Zim spat. Dib glared at him before withdrawing from the tent to give the word.

Therefore, it was set in history books thereafter that Laurent and Skoodge headed for the base in the South. Blake and Madge headed for the base up north to retrieve whatever information they could, judging the right moment on when to strike. Blake and Madge worked undercover as tailors to shoot the breeze and mend frayed uniforms. Madge sent back encrypted memos to Zim, who relayed it back to Membrane, who took Porter with him to the Bay.

* * *

All of the players were in position with very little ammunition. Nearing the middle of September is when the pieces were played as they were meant to. Madge listened into private conversations, his ear sharper than Blake's, who continued to think he was doing well on his own. The Irkens were more superior in this regard. Madge found himself frequently shaking his head at Blake's ignorance, telling himself he deserved a medal for this endeavor.

Come near September 23rd, Madge gave Zim the word, who forwarded the information to Dib, who hurried to General Membrane and Porter, who initiated battle in the dead of the night. They moved undercover, silent, and stealthy. The fighting lasted for a week before the enemy gave in and waved a white flag. Bodies surrounded the men with the flag. If anyone could capture that image, it would show the depths individuals were willing to go for the sake of war.

Zim emerged from his communication port he shared with Madge, seeing the young man wave the flag for all to see. As the guns were lowered, he knew then the war had been won. Zim was briskly taking notes for his personal self and Membrane raised his gun in victory. America was her own standalone nation. Whether Zim realized it or not, he was part of something incredible.

The leaders met, began settling the score and terms of agreement. The men began to regress and retreat. The wounded were tended to, and Zim bellowed out victoriously, "Zim's plan worked!"

Gir followed suit with a small flag of his own, dressed as Zim's faithful dog and waving a flag that read, "I love Earth" on it in bold black paint. He squeaked and raised it high in the air.

"Zim's plan?" The men looked at him, perplexed.

"I gave the Dib the ideas that led to this victory. Bow down, praise Zim!"

"Is this true, son?" Membrane asked as he came back with Dib and Porter.

Dib nodded slowly, solemnly. When the dust had settled, he had every intention of telling the truth.

"Well, good job on delegating!" Membrane clapped Dib on the back, nodding his head to Zim and walked away. Zim's jaw slightly fell, wondering what had just transpired.

"No praise for Zim?" he asked, sounding as dejected as he felt. Dib almost felt bad for him. But at least the alien wouldn't be in the history books as anything more than he was. A communications soldier who assisted in the war, as was Dib. The only person who would be endlessly praised was General Membrane for being the leader. That was just the way of it.

As defeated as Zim felt, he rationalized with himself that in the Irken history books, a different song would be sang. Let the humans have their view, when the Earth would be defeated, this battle would matter very little. America may have won her independence, but the Earth had no idea what was coming to it. Happy with this thought, Zim proceeded to arrange to go back to Gaz and Zinovia and make a home with his mate and daughter. The war was over, there was nothing left here.

Dib stretched his arms over his head. The war was over, he could return to Amelia and arrive in time to see his child born and live up to his promises of being a good husband and father. Sadly, he would have to see more of Zim and hear about how he won them the war, but that was alright, too. He was able to keep a closer eye on his enemy and see what he had in store. Now that the war was over, he had all the time in the world to put a stop to Zim.

In fact, when he returned home. He heard the cries of new life that didn't belong to Zinovia. No, those were the cries of his newborn. Dib dropped his bags at the gate and flew inside the doors.

* * *

Tallest Purple left the Ida the Aid with a smile, a wave, and a promise to make today up to her. He headed back for the control room where he was certain to find Red. He lounged at his chair, slurping on a crushed iced Irken beverage and sighed. "I think we need to talk."

"I was wondering where you've been all day," Red commented after hearing his partner's voice.

"I was busy doing what _you_ should have been doing. Finding a way to stop Zim." He tossed the files upon Red's stomach.

"You're still worried about him? He'll wind up killing himself in one of these "wars" he keeps rambling on about. Give him time, he'll blow himself up. He's an idiot."

"Only because we left him to be that way. Did you know he has Tallest blood in him?" When he heard the series of coughs behind him, Purple knew he had his attention. "Didn't think so. I did a little research down in the basement with a lovely research aid named Ida."

"Congratulations, you've found someone. Didn't know when it would happen, to be honest." He pressed a button and confetti flew down on him.

"Red!" Purple barked, blowing confetti from his eyelid. "Zim is more of a danger than you realize. He is the product of two powerful individuals."

Red held up one claw in protest. "If… _If_ he has Tallest blood in him, then how is he so short?"

"Zim was improperly assigned. This being the case, he underwent a great Repression. He was never worked fully to his abilities in the academy. This explains why he is easily combustible and a rogue invader. I'm surprised he hasn't already imploded." Purple shook his head. "We've got a situation here, Red."

"Zim is growing because he is finally uncovering who he is. These life experiences he's having must have triggered the stimulus inside of him. An ability to reign command, the taste of war. It's happening, Red. He won't be small forever…the taller he grows, the higher his intelligence climbs. I'll need Madge to gather more information."

"What about Impending Doom 1? Why didn't this "stimulus" trigger then?" Red challenged.

"I don't have an answer for that." Purple's shoulder's dropped.

"I have a weapon for when the time comes, anyway." Red quickly replied. "Apparently, it seems, _someone_ has to think ahead rather than play with the lab aids in the basement."

Purple quirked a brow. "A weapon? What kind of weapon?"

"Someone who has had a hankering to get their revenge on Zim."

"I'm sure there's a line out the door."

"Oh, the highest ranker there will be the one to do it. By the way, Purple…which Tallest gave Zim their DNA?"

Purple stared hard at his friend, uncertain if he was prepared for the response. "I think you should open the folder and see for yourself."


	13. Dear Zinovia

Alright, chapter thirteen and a lot begins to transcend here. The war is over and the men have a chance to be who they want to be once they learn who they are aside from soldiers of war. We catch a glimpse of the men as fathers. I'm actually very satisfied with daddy Zim here. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 13- Dear Theodosia/Laurens Interlude**

 _"Dear Laurent,_

 _I am pleased to inform you that Joshua Reed Membrane was born early in the morning of September the thirtieth. If there was ever a way to describe a child, it would be that he's perfect. All ten fingers and toes, perfect length and weight. I wish you could see him, when you arrive back, please stop by. He was named in honor of his uncle, Joshua Ryder, who died fighting for our independence. He was counted among the dead._

 _Please write soon, my friend. I miss you._

 _-Dib."_

Joshua Membrane was born as Dib arrived home. He heard his son's cries and his heart melted. The child was physically perfect. He was a stamp of his father, down to the jet-black hair, with the exception of his eyes-those were his mother's blue eyes.

"I wonder how she pushed that head out," Zim thought aloud, earning daggered glares from the father of the child.

"Our heads are **NOT** big."

"Yes they aaaaare," Gir replied solemnly beside him, dressed again as a doctor against Dr. Hooper, who had delivered the babe.

He was in absolute awe of his child, who was named for Amelia's brother who had died in the battle, after the bodies were recovered. Alexander returned with his brother and the family mourned over his death. Dib elbowed Zim to pay his respects, sneering at the alien who blankly stared at the dead young man. Amelia left to tend to Zinovia and Joshua, needing to be occupied with the children and unable to attend—unable to see her brother in a casket. Bishop held Gretchen as she cried.

Laurent and Skoodge remained in the south, Madge and Blake eventually made their way back home. Initially, with the exception of Dib and Zim, who had their families to tend to, none of the men knew what to do with themselves thereafter. Madge resumed work in the warehouse, frequently communicating with Skoodge on his expected return. Skoodge just kept replying that he would be home soon. Blake returned to his tailoring deep within the belly of the city where he had originated from.

As promised, Zim removed Gaz from the Ryder home. He was grateful for their services towards Gaz and his daughter, but he would find housing elsewhere. Dib was saddened to see his sister and niece go, but he knew the time would come. Zim had expanded the base in the warehouse to accommodate his mate and child, providing oxygen and housing. Here, he could spent more time with Zinovia, holding her small hands as she learned to take her steps in the vacuous living room.

The human form of her rejected the progressive chip he wanted to implant within her. He had to accept her as is and learn from her, instead. Irken babes walked on their own minutes after birth. Zinovia had taken months. He was certain her hybrid brain was challenged and processing her motor skills. But, it was for the better, as these delayed skills were saving her and rendering her normal among the other human babies.

It didn't stop Zim from being left in awe at her, her tiny legs making those conscious steps. He caught her when she fell, always making tiny vows to her to always catch her. Fatherhood placed Zim in a whole other predicament. He wanted nothing more than to make her life as enriched as possible, dedicating this mission to her. He would take over this planet for her. Zim watched Gaz rock her one evening, her small hands reaching up to study her mother's face. This was her way of communicating with them. She showed affection through physical contact. She babbled, as she was now, as Gaz brushed her finger along her daughter's cheek.

Moreover, when she was placed in the crib to sleep, Gir was asleep beside her, dressed as a dog to not scare her until she was able to comprehend just what Gir was. Nevertheless, every night, Gir was curled up beside Zinovia like the good watchful playmate he turned out to be for her.

He was in awe from the way her cheeks puffed when she was frustrated, to her heart wrenching cries. However, once she began talking, there was no stopping her. At one years old, her brain was like a sponge, learning dozens of new words every day and Zim beamed with pride. He carried her in his arms, taking her to the office to map out. She held the compass in both hands and pretended to design plans with her father. Zim turned around to see what she was doing and wondered if her tiny baby brain was onto something good.

* * *

At a year old, Dib and Amelia managed to get their own little house. It was small and just enough on what Dib could afford in his earnings and what Amelia made in mending and sewing. Joshua learned to crawl and walk. Dib had never felt anything like it before, the amount of love a parent could possess towards their child. Especially now, Dib couldn't understand how his own father could have left him. He could never imagine leaving Joshua, not when those big blue eyes looked up at him and when he cried for his dada to come.

"I promise, my little man. And you have my word, I will never leave you." He squeezed the infant to him. Amelia watched from the doorway and walked into the room, placing her hand on his shoulder as he turned around to look at his wife. "I'll never leave either of you."

He laid on the floor with Joshua and showed him pictures that he himself drew of some mythical creatures he had learned about. He performed a lot of visuals during story time, which the little boy clapped his hands with delight as he sat up.

Dib and Laurent wrote frequently back and forth to one another. Dib had hopes that Laurent would return back home to see his son, and they could go for drinks.

 _"Dearest Laurent,_

 _You should see Joshua, and how he has grown. He takes on so much of my traits. He is alert and aware of his surroundings. You should see him. I wish you could. You'd fall in love just as hard._

 _-Dib."_

* * *

 _"Dearest Dib,_

 _I hope that it won't be too much longer now until I can join you. You sound absolutely enamored by your little doppelganger. Good. Fatherhood becomes you, and now you can fulfill every one of your promises that you relayed to me prior to his coming. I miss you and the others terribly, but there is much I have to do. The war for our independence may be over, but the war to free the slaves will never be. And, I will seek to do that. Fortunately, I have some assistance in that friend of Zim's._

 _Till we write again,_

 _-Laurent."_

* * *

At two years old, Zinovia was up, walking and running on her own. Zim was thankful the young child didn't have spider legs to roam their halls with. But the echoing of her giggles gave her away. Zim often found the young child in the dead of night, roaming their library for something to read.

"Should you not be asleep right now?" Zim asked the young one playfully. The toddler turned around to face her father with a grin.

"Papa, I want a story."

"I told you a story of Invader Blarg and the Great Garb-Gnats before bedtime, Zin," Zim said as he crossed the room to reach his daughter, scooping her up beneath her armpits. He looked up at the dozens of books in their library, although he made certain to dedicate a spot for her learning books so she could feel included when Zim came in here to study.

"But, I want another. My brain is itchy for more!" At two years old, she was eloquent in her speech. She was clear, concise. Her eyes expressive, defining. As much as she had his eyes, they were her mother's shape and he found it hard to resist those thick lashes when she batted them. His daughter was coquettish and figured out early that she could use it to her advantage.

"Story time!" Gir squeaked.

"…You're up, too?"

"Story time! Cookies and milk!"

"Shush! Keep it down! Do you want to wake up the whole house?"

Zim glanced at the clock. He scooped his daughter into his arms and took her into the kitchen to fix her a warm drink. She held the small cup in her hands as he carried her back into the library to search through her sector of the library. The young girl shook her head in protect.

"Not these books? But which ones?"

Zinovia nearly spilled her warm beverage, although pointed towards the Big Book of Irken Lore. Zim perked a brow at this before walking to pluck the book off the shelf. Yawning, he sat down in one of the big armchairs; his daughter prepped on his lap with the glass of milk and began to slowly drink it. He glanced down at her, opening the book and searched for a good one to tell.

"You know, our people have been taking over planets for centuries. This Invader here, Invader Smog. He took over the Bellowing Borks back in the day."

"Who are they?"

"The Bellowing Borks made horrible, sickly noises to attack their foes. They made them go to sleep before they….eh…."

"Did they eated them?" She asked. Zim blinked cautiously at this, uncertain if she was too young to really understand. "Papa, were they eated?"

Zim sighed. "Yes, the Bellowing Borks ate their prey."

"Swallowed up whoooole," Gir chimed in, earning a glare from Zim before dedicating his attention back to his daughter who seemed to put thought into this.

"Because they're hunters, right? And hunters need prey to live."

Zim placed a hand on top of her head, threading her purple locks between his fingers. "Yes, hunters need prey to live. Invaders need planets to take over. Irk is a very dominant planet, and that's what you are—half Irken." He poked her nose gently, reaching down to help tip the glass so she could reach the bottom. She licked the milk on her upper lip and looked up at her father.

"How did you know about The Bellowing Borks?" Zim asked cautiously, though skeptically.

Zinovia pointed down at the robot, whose tail twitched happily. Zim was uncertain whether or not to be angered by this. He thought she was too young to understand, and in most young ladies, stories like that would scare them. However, there she was, drinking her milk and having a developed conversation like it was a topic of the weather. Either, the child didn't truly understand what she was talking about, or she was as fearless as her father.

He took the glass from her as her eyes began to droop. Truly, a remarkable child.

* * *

At three years old, Joshua loved sitting on his father's lap for a good story. Amelia spoiled him with lullabies and picture books. Dib continued to animate and bring the stories to life. To further bring in some income, Dib looked to heighten his education and become an investigator. Most men became lawyers or shopkeepers, but Dib loved investigating. No one told him he couldn't do it, and he wasn't about to allow anyone to. Joshua often begged for his father to take him, which he did one day. The three-year-old walked around the interior of the house and came face to face with a floating entity.

The spirit was elderly, and did not appear malevolent to the young boy who innocently waved at him. Dib rounded the corner to see his son talking to no one in particular until he realized his son had encountered what was troubling the house. It was no mouse. It was the spirit who owned the house prior to the new couple moving in.

Dib kneeled beside his son, looking up to see if he could see any hint of the spirit. "What does he say, son?"

Joshua took a moment. "He likes them. He didn't know he scared them."

Dib licked his lips, hopefully. "Will he leave them to peace?"

"He says he's okay now." And followed that with a thumbs up.

Joshua prattled on afterward about how much he liked talking to the man, and how the man told him he found peace in speaking to him. Dib ruffled his son's hair. While some believed, there were also others who didn't and saw it as a father indulging his little boy in the scary stories he was told at night. Overall, it wasn't taken seriously, but found adorable, because of Joshua. His son had a gift, and Dib hoped Joshua would later come to nurture it. He had a way with the paranormal, and the entities took to him.

Dib remembered Amelia's stories about how she saw spirits in her youth. Perhaps Joshua had inherited her gift. Then again, he learned that spirits let themselves be known to those they wanted to. They could be fickle, and then they could be cooperative. It was a game of chance. Young Joshua would bound through the house upon their return, Amelia tending to their one-year-old daughter, Diana.

He felt, for the first time, satisfied with life. He gave Amelia a kiss, followed by Diana who adopted the same black hair and brown eyes as her father. However, that face was all Amelia.

* * *

 _"Dear Laurent,_

 _You should see Joshua now. He is smart as a whip! He picks up on things quicker than most children his age. And, he wants to read. I'm assuming that comes from Amelia's influence, but I'm not complaining. Our daughter Diana is just learning now to take her first steps. She grows more beautiful every day. You and I will have to grill her suitors when they arrive when she becomes of age. When are you returning?_

 _-Dib."_

* * *

 _"Dearest Dib,_

 _I am uncertain when I'll return. But, Joshua and Diana sound like lovely children, indeed. You're doing a wonderful job, Dib. I hope to return to you all soon. I am afraid I'm short on time, but I wanted to pen this letter to you before time has expired. Until we meet again._

 _-Laurent."_

* * *

Zim placed Zinovia down for a nap, hearing the staggering footsteps from the other room, followed by the crash of the nightstand toppled over. His antennae perked up, listening for other sounds or movements. There was a final thud and Zim stepped out of the doorway, taking Gaz's form on her side. His blood ran cold, kneeling quickly at her side. He couldn't think of anything else to do aside from lift her up and carry her over to their bed. Her breathing was shallow, although her body ran along like fire. Knitting his brows together, if he had any to knit, Zim began to undress her. Humans lacked rejuvenating methods such as their PAK's provided. They had their medical methods, and he would have to reach out to someone who could possibly assist them.

"mmm, Zim?" Gaz moaned.

"What happened? How long has this been going on?"

"The past few days."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Gaz quieted, wincing as her body felt the aches. There was a fever going around, one that began to claim individuals in their sleep. Gaz exposed herself when she went to the market, left herself susceptible. Zim shook his head and reached behind him and into his PAK to fetch a needle, pricking her skin and sampling her blood to see if he could identify what was wrong and create a serum to cure her.

"You humans lack the medicine to cure these fevers."

"You can't cure a fever, Zim. You let it break."

Zim wasn't listening. "Then I shall break this fever with my Irken medicine."

She shivered with a chill only she felt. "Get ice."

He couldn't allow the water to touch his skin. However, if she knew what needed to be done, then he would trust her. Zim summoned Gir to run the errand of fetching the ice, handing the robot a bucket. The robot saluted and took off with the bucket that was bigger than he was.

"Hmm, it's highly viral," Zim uttered as he typed away. A leg reached behind him to put a blanket over Gaz, hoping she would begin to sweat this virus out. Germs were nasty in their own right. Zim did what he could to provide his family with the proper devices to keep them safe from them. Nevertheless, he supposed now he couldn't defeat every single germ out there. After catching a glimpse at his mate, he wished he could.

To the matter of Zinovia, he would have to have her taken to a safer location than this. She would begin asking questions soon and seeing her mother in her current condition would make her upset. He cringed at his only thought. He should have been damned if he would leave his daughter in the hands of his most loathed enemy. But, who else was there? Madge didn't know a thing about smeets, and Skoodge, who was the better option of the two, was planting stations down south for when Zim was ready to take over.

"Zim? It's the middle of the night," Amelia said as she opened the door. "Do you want to come inside?" She had to be courteous to family, as their children were cousins.

"I truly hate to ask this of you, but I require you to watch Zinovia for some time while I tend to important matters at home. I cannot determine when I'll be able to retrieve her, but hopefully, it'll be soon."

Amelia frowned at that, reaching out for the little girl. "Zim, what's wrong?" She dropped the pleasantries, feeling the change in his tone and in the air. Something was amiss.

The Irken fought to look her in the eye. "There is some viral infection going around, yes? Gaz caught it. I don't want Zinovia around for it." He looked down at the sleeping smeet.

"I can send for-" However, Zim cut her off, shaking his head.

"Your human doctors won't do what I haven't already tried." He mouthed to Amelia the next bit so Zinovia didn't hear, "She is not getting better, I'm afraid."

Amelia turned her head back to the house where Dib was putting their children to bed. She could hear him telling them a story, the roar of their tiny shrills of laughter behind her. For all the time she had known Zim, he always wore a scowl, anger, resent, hatred. He wore them like secondary masks. This was the first time she had seen him truly wear fear.

"We'll care for her, Zim."

Zim nodded and handed over his daughter. The way he felt then was indescribable—passing along his only child into the hands of other humans. Amelia's hands were warm, though, even through his gloves. There must have been a fire roaring inside. He was silent, even as Amelia curled Zinovia to her chest. She reached out her hand, reaching for his gloved one as she held his hand into hers. For all of the mixed feelings she had towards him, she couldn't find a good enough reason to hate him at this moment.

The heat over the past few years had died down between him and Dib since the war was over and Dib did his utmost to squelch the floating phrases that Dib had won them the war. In all good conscience, he couldn't take all of the credit when Zim had a share in the victory, as well. However, that couldn't and wouldn't stop the people from believing what they wanted to. Membrane had gone back to being a man of science, wanting to wash away the title of 'General' and replace it with 'Professor', he just felt more comfortable that way. That didn't stop him from spreading the pride of his son's ability to delegate, which ultimately left Dib to be a loved individual with the people, at the moment.

Amelia could hardly hold Zim's feelings against him. The further she looked into his eyes; she could see that right now that didn't matter. However, she felt helpless towards Gaz's cause. Fevers and illnesses like that took lives and without warning. Hardly anyone recovered, and it was a matter of when to tell Dib. If memory served correctly, that was also how their mother died.

"Seeing as how the Dib is her brother…I'll leave it at your discretion to tell him."

Rubbing the little girl's back, she never removed her eyes from Zim. "I'll handle it. You have enough. You should go back to Gazlene now, I'm certain she's calling for you."

Zim, at a loss for words, could only shake his head before touching his daughter's ringlet and turned to descend the staircase when he saw a sight he thought he wouldn't see for another year or so.

"Skoodge?"

"Amelia," Skoodge said out of breath, nodding to Zim, before turning back to the woman. "I-I have a letter for your husband."

"Where is Laurent? I'm sure Dib will want to see his friend." Skoodge's face read volumes into his reply as he held out the letter, urging her to accept it.

"In here."

Amelia's heart sank. She never knew him personally, but Laurent was one of Dib's closest friends. She thought of the turn of events in her head, looking down at both the letter and the sleeping tot. A tear escaped her eye, as this evening turned quickly from warm to frigid in a matter of minutes.

"Thank you, both. I'll tend to Dib now. Thank you." She had no desire to be so dismissive towards them. She felt Zim's eyes linger on her as she closed the door behind them. Looking down at the little girl, she was uncertain of what her fate would be without her mother, if Zim would be able to parent on his own. She had an idea of what lied within the letter, but she couldn't confirm nor deny until she opened it up.

Amelia first went to put Zinovia to bed in the spare guest room, tucking the little girl in, she clutched the letter to her chest, took a deep breath, and proceeded to search for her husband. She found him watching over their children as they slept their storybook in his lap. She had to be strong and deliver the news on both fronts.

 _Be brave, Amelia. Be brave for your family._

She found her husband with a storybook in his hand, finishing one of the more familiar tales as the children slumbered soundly. She swallowed before parting her lips to speak, "Dib, I have a letter for you."

He picked his head up, however, didn't turn to face his wife. His voice was light and airy as he replied, "It must be from Laurent. I haven't heard from him in weeks. Finally, he's getting back to me on his progress."

Amelia shook her head, feeling the lump develop in her throat. "No, it's not."

She watched him stiffen in his seat, turning around finally to face his wife as he rose and withdrew himself from the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and eyed her and then the letter that was beginning to crumple in her hand.

"Maybe you should sit down for this."

Dib listened to her and sat in his office, turning in his seat to face her. Amelia felt the chill grow in the room then. Her eyes glanced around, swelling with the onset of tears.

"Will you read it to me?"

She opened the contents of the letter, trying her hardest to not cry. This was only the first of two items of business she needed to address with him.

 _"On February the 10_ _th_ _, Lieutenant Laurent Clemens was killed in battle. He sought to free the slaves of a wealthy landowner, which began the proceedings of another dance of firearms. He was shot and killed in the process. He will remain here until his family can send for his remains. The freedom he wished for now dies with him."_

She took a moment to compose herself, feeling the tears rolling in heated waves down her cheeks. Peering up from behind the letter, she saw Dib sitting there. She knew shock when she saw it; the tears were cold as his blood ran with it.

"Dib?"

She couldn't bear to ask if he was alright. She knew he wasn't. She reached out for her husband, only for him to withdraw. Amelia had to address the next bit. She was almost there to finishing what she started.

"Dib, there's one more. Zim stopped by with Zinovia…Gaz caught the fever."

She felt those words leave her like the bullet of one of Dib's guns and strike him in his heart.

"Is she…"

"No, Zim wanted Zinovia out of harm's way."

Dib nodded at that. From one father to another, he could respect that. He stood up from his seat. He couldn't bear to look his wife in the eyes.

"I…I have a lot of work to do." He brushed past his wife, descending the staircase and closed the door to their own parlor where he fixed himself a drink. Dib took a hard swig of it before smashing the glass into the fireplace and crumpled to the floor in grief.

Amelia watched and listened as something caught her attention. She turned her head to see their children's bedroom door open. Swearing the door was closed, she walked over to check on the children. When she peered inside, she saw the spirit of a man standing between their beds.

Initially, she was taken aback. The spirit knelt down over Joshua, brushing translucent fingers over his hair gently. She presented an audible gasp as the spirit turned to face her, standing full and straight. Her eyes widened. His jacket was filled with bullet holes, and what appeared to be blood flowed from the wounds freely. She cupped her hand over her mouth, taking steps back from the bedroom. She couldn't scream, couldn't alert her husband. The spirit never once advanced towards her, and instead, he smiled and life appeared to flicker in his eyes before they swelled with tears. The spirit was making the transition from their world to the spirit world, where who knew what transpired behind heaven's gates.

"Laurent?"

Again, he smiled to her and offered her a bow.


	14. Non-Stop

Two chapters in one night, what is happening? This was a tough chapter to write because I initially had a different plan, yet it ended like this. Tallest Red has no idea how to handle this new bout of information. Zim is feeling new feelings and he doesn't know how to react towards them. Amelia is expanding as a character- it's interesting to flesh her out and her part in this, because I definitely see her taking on more than the role of wife and mother. I would love your feedback on this matter.

 **Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I wonder if I matched your suspicions on Zim's parentage, and who the Tallest were sending!

 **InvaderJohnny:** Zim is definitely expanding on his feelings. He's growing and maturing, it's definitely interesting to tap into. I'm honestly loving delving into the Irken aspect. And we're still only halfway through!

* * *

 **Chapter 14- Non-Stop**

Tallest Red paced the Massive, looking again at the file Purple had given him. In his claws was information he would have rather go on not knowing about. But, now that it was present, Red could not ignore it. He opened the file. He saw in big, bold lettering the names of Zim's biological life givers:

 **TALLEST RED**

 **TALLEST MIYUKI**

How that could have happened, he'll never understand. Surely, he was powerful, but to father one of the most dangerous invaders to exist. He groaned. Comparable to a sperm donor, Red wanted to donate and not know about it. He was doing his solemn duty by Irk in giving his essence. At one point, it would have been Zim's, as well, to continue the Irken line. He sighed and closed the file before opening it again. The facts were not going away.

"I feel this is as bad as the night I got drunk with that cheap dancer on my birthday."

"Well, congratulations, it's a boy," Purple said cheekily, popping blue confetti in his partner's face. Red glared at him, but assumed Purple was getting his payback from when he teased him earlier about the Lab Aid, whatever her name was.

"And Miyuki, who died too soon."

"I'm assuming she gave her eggs to store," Purple replied.

Red didn't respond to that. Instead, he looked outward towards the depths of space. Now, he was forced to take action. He was forced to have a part in this catastrophe. After a pregnant pause, he looked at Purple and gave an almost helpless stare. He felt no parental emotion towards Zim after this release of information. He was still the same old fuck up he had always known.

Purple hovered over and placed a clawed hand upon his shoulder. "Now do you understand what I was referring to, earlier?"

Red's lips thinned and tightened before releasing the breath he had been holding. "Then we do what we have to. I will stop at nothing."

Purple wondered if the information fully sank in. Whatever way they chose to approach the situation, a stop needed to be put forth.

* * *

Back on Earth, Gaz showed little signs of improvement. Her vitals fluctuated with each cough and each graze in temperature. Zim frowned and refused to lose hope. Still, Zim continued to grow both internally and externally. There was more to this than taking over a planet. He wanted to do right by his family, he decided. Zinovia had taken over all thought in his brain. He wanted a life for her to breathe in. He never wanted his daughter to ever hold her breath or pause because of her social stance in life.

He would take over Earth for her.

Between watching Gaz's vitals, Zim continued to work. He barely slept and hardly ate, to which Gaz admonished him when he appeared thinner than usual. His eyes trailed along her weak form and he shook his head. Would he have to learn to cope without Gaz? How would he explain such to Zinovia?

One afternoon, he sat at Gaz's bedside. The color had just begun to return to her cheeks, battling this illness for a little over a week. This showed promise. Perhaps she would overcome this, otherwise, wouldn't the illness have taken her by now? Or, just maybe, the higher-powered beings were toying with him. He turned his head to face her as she opened her eyes and placed her hand over his own. He gently squeezed her hand and looked back at the floor.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Gaz couldn't answer him. "Have you heard from Amelia about Zinovia?"

Gaz seemed to never give a complete answer these days, which led Zim to begin to think the worse for wear. "Amelia says that Zin listens very well. She asks for you often."

Gaz lightly coughed, looking around at the dimly lit room. She almost wished for the sun, some fresh air to filter in. Although the room was self-filtering, so she was never breathing in the same sickly air, she felt like she hadn't seen the outside in so long.

"I'd like to see her."

He shook his head, "Not until you're better."

"For fuck's sake, Zim. I want to see my daughter."

He cracked a small smile at that. She was returning to herself. The flash of anger caused color in her pale cheeks. He reached out to feel her forehead. The fever was dying down, which was a relief to him. Still, he didn't want to take chances in risking exposure to Zinovia.

Gaz glared at him before sinking back into her pillows.

"Rest up, I'll be in the next room if you need me." He passed her a book as she closed her eyes again. He walked out of the room and into the next to pen some notes down, dipping the quill in the inkwell and scribbling his thoughts. He felt like he never stopped; couldn't stop; didn't want to stop by any means until his plan was complete. Ideas threaded together more clearly than they had when he first began, all of these changes overcame him. He felt a surge of power course through his body, sending jolts from his brain to his hand as he wrote.

He was a man on a mission.

As was Dib. Between making arrangements for his business and trying to think of a way to take Zim down, he was almost always holed up in his office. Amelia brought him tea and cakes to tide him over before tending to the children, who were rolling a ball between one another in the next room. Zinovia was advanced for her age, which caught Amelia off guard, but intrigued her all the same.

One morning, Amelia advised the children play together after breakfast. While, to most children that would mean play and have an adventure in the yard, for her niece and son, it meant Zinovia sitting down with Joshua and Diana and read to them, even teaching Joshua words from his picture book. The mother's mind raced with prospect of this young woman beyond her young years. She sat up, pin straight, in a lacy and frilly dress, pointing to words and sounding them out to Joshua, who hung onto Zinovia's every word. The two were connected to one another and found it to be a shame that when Gaz got better, that they would have to separate.

"How are the reports coming along?" She asked after bringing Dib his lunch.

"I'm not working on the reports right now," he said softly. "I'm tending to Gaz's affairs on the off-chance she…"

"O-oh," she choked and rubbed his back softly. "You don't have to finish that sentence."

Amelia began to conspire an idea of visiting Gaz herself to see how she was doing. Dib was far too distraught at the moment and someone would have to watch the kids. Playing with the children would be a good break for her husband and distract him for a bit.

"I'm going in town for a bit. Maybe you should play with the kids and get away from your desk," she suggested.

"Maybe you're right," he sighed. Although he didn't feel up to playing, his children always brought about happier times for him. He continued to stare at his desk and tore away from it, forcing himself up and away from the desk and into the other room where the children were huddled around a book.

"Hi, Uncle Dib!"

"Daddy!" His children chimed in unison.

* * *

Amelia covered her mouth with her handkerchief and walked along the streets. Many of the kiosks were closed, apart from the apothecary and Dr. Hooper, who seemed nearly there themselves. She continued to trudge along, her boots carrying her through raw sewage in the streets from neglect. These were hard times, these times of sickness. She nearly vomited from the stench.

"Mrs. Membrane," the apothecary called out to her. "You really shouldn't be out here."

"My family and I have been taking our herbs. I-I have to see my sister-in-law," she explained.

"Very well. Take care, ma'am." He tipped his hat to her, she nodded, bade him the same well wishes and continued along her way. She searched for the large warehouse in town, wrapping her arm around her waist with one hand and covering her mouth with the other, her eyes scoured. She took in her town, recognizing the florist, the butcher, and then noticed the warehouse tucked behind the blacksmith.

She knocked on the warehouse doors, her first banging against the wood.

Zim perked a brow as the alarm sounded in the basement, cursing whoever was on the other side. The bell continued to tinkle in his ear until he slid his wig and lenses on, ascended the stairs to open the warehouse doors and see Dib's wife on the other side. He quickly scanned around her to see if she was followed by anyone.

"What are you doing here?"

"How is Gaz doing?"

"You couldn't have sent a letter asking that? You're letting the germs in, get inside." He hissed and closed the doors behind her and looked her up and down. She removed the handkerchief from her mouth, smelling the alcohol inside the warehouse, inhaling the sterility.

Amelia opened her palms. "I had to see her for myself. Dib is a mess."

"Wait, how is Zinovia?"

"Oh! Well, she's just fine. Just fine, I promise. I figured coming here would-"

"I hate to disappoint you; however, I cannot let you see her. You'll contract the virus, and then you'll bring it back to Zinovia; and the whole reason why I left her with you was so that you would protect her. Now, you're a carrier."

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose, losing her patience. "Dib is writing out her damn will, Zim. How is she doing? He's a wreck."

"She's showing little improvement, spicy worm beast."

She knitted her brows together. "Spicy…what?"

Zim crossed his arms over his chest. "I am uncertain what will satisfy you so that you leave." He approached Amelia. She never noticed before how tall he was and how he began to tower over her. She backed against the warehouse doors as Zim leaned a hand against the door, brushing just past her shoulder.

"You need to leave and return to my daughter. Now. That is not a request."

Amelia looked at his hand, then turned her head back towards Zim. "I came here to ease my husband's mind. I'm not leaving without an answer, Zim. Zinovia is perfectly safe in my husband's care until my return. While she's your daughter. She also happens to be his niece."

Zim then heard a bell sound. A bell that was to be sounded when Gaz felt her condition worsening, or if she needed something. He hoped it was the latter before tearing away from Amelia and returning downstairs to his mate. "Leave," he hissed to her before disappearing.

Amelia had two choices, one was to follow orders and leave. Or, she could follow and see what lied beneath the doors. She assumed the living quarters also stunk of alcohol to kill the unwanted bacteria that lingered.

* * *

Purple and Red eyed one another before Red decided to implement the plan he had stored in the back of his PAK. The duo hovered down the long and desolated hallway, hearing the beeps and clicks of the operation of The Massive. Red entered the control room and flipped a switch, watching the black screen lower.

Tallest Red had a son. Tallest Red had a defective son. Was all that seemed to play in the back of his mind. Purple frowned, understanding well that all of the inputted information was tough to swallow. He continued to watch Red process the call and to see a female Irken on the screen.

The curl of her antennae bobbed as she turned her head towards the camera and screen, her purple eyes glimmering with hope of exacting her revenge on her terms. It would be delicious, and it would be deadly. She wanted it messy and desired it slow.

"My Tallest?"

"I'm assuming you want me to continue to carry out my work here?"

Red placed his hands behind his back. "I told you to stay behind on Earth for a reason, Tak. I believe now is a good time for you to act. You yourself have some unfinished business to attend to, I believe."

"On my terms," she stated.

"In whatever manner you have in mind. You have full authorization to fulfill the mission as you see fit."

"Very good," she replied. "I won't fail you, My Tallest." She signed off with a salute after Red nodded in affirmation to her and the screen fell to black once more. He flipped the switch and sent the screen back up from where it came from.

"I thought you would want to have a hand in stopping him yourself," Purple said. "After all, he is your-"

"Don't. Just don't say it." He cringed. "I promised Tak. I keep my word."

"I think this whole thing is a mess."

"And how would you do it, smart guy!?" Red snapped. "I don't see you doing anything but giving me useless information! No one is to know about this, do you understand?"

Purple nodded solemnly. "The Lab Aid has also sworn to secrecy."

"Good. Tak will report to us on her progress. We'll wait for her word."

* * *

Zim hurried down into the basement with now this human hot on his heels. He cringed, wondering if this was Dib using his wife as bait. That would be a low move, even for him. If his base was exposed to the wrong people, then everything went to hell. But, he couldn't think of that now. Gaz took priority, he had to keep her alive.

Zim found Gaz writhing in bed, her fever spiking. Amelia climbed onto the bed and attempted to hold the woman down as one mother held onto the other. She was thankful to see another face.

"Tell Dib I'm sorry," she whispered, almost sounding like she was choking on her words. Amelia felt sweat and determined that she was soaked with it. She began to undress Gaz, shaking her head as Gaz attempted to push the other off in protest. She sank back into the bed, her burning skin unbearably painful as she looked to Zim, who took her hands. He asked her to not leave him, his voice almost pleaded.

"No, you're breaking this fever," Zim uttered. "You were breaking it earlier!"

Amelia left the room to return with water and a rag, resting the cloth on her forehead as it quickly warmed up. Zim felt his eye twitch.

"We've tried everything, human stink. Nothing works."

Amelia ignored Zim and wrung out the cloth and dipped it again, placing it to her forehead. She was attempting to draw out the heat. "Stay with us, Gaz. Zinovia needs you. Zim needs you. Your brother needs you."

Gaz closed her eyes, taking in heavy breaths for air. Her attempts to respond were short as she practically gasped for air. The fever was taking over, going the way her mother left this Earth. She fought, fought for as long as she was able, and it just overpowered her. The heat consumed her, the lacy pitch of death greeting her as she could see the reaper extend his hand towards her. She reached out for his hand, feeling one respond.

Amelia watched Zim take her hand into his, desperate to bring Gaz back. She stilled, her breath shallow as the bathing flames licked at her form.

"Zinovia…Zin…" She whispered, Zim tapping her hand almost aggressively.

"I cannot allow you to leave me."

The life had left her eyes, as the reaper curled his fingers tantalizingly. Gaz reached for it, feeling the weight shift and the heat leave her. She parted from her body and looked down at the bedridden corpse, the useless lump she had become. Her face had thinned, black hung beneath her eyes and she shook her head. While it pained her to be away from her daughter and mate, it was better this way.

Zim shook Gaz, wanting to wake her and keep her with him. There was nothing more that could have been done. He looked down, then up to see the tears streaming down Amelia's face. Her eyes met with Zim's. Perhaps tears were contagious, because he began to feel wet prick at his eyes. He wanted to throw something against the wall, break something.

"Why are you here?" He asked Amelia.

"For Dib," she replied.

Zim shook his head, uncertain if he believed that reason. He got up from the bed and ushered her out of the bedroom, needing to let her know that she wasn't going to be lingering around.

"I require a moment."

Amelia turned and touched his cheek consolingly, Zim initially yanked away from her touch as her hand slid from where it rested. He grasped her wrist and stared at her fervently, flicking a stray tear from her cheek before pointing towards the door.

"Dib wants her buried in a plot half way between the house and here. It's a quiet area and she has her own tree. He paid extra."

Zim winced at that, comprehending that Dib had this planned out. Did he have little faith that she would make it? Well, he appeared to be right. Amelia left the warehouse and leaned against the doors after they closed behind her, taking a moment to absorb that Gaz was really gone.

She took her time returning him, the sun having set as she made the long trek home. Her mind buzzed with conflict, feeling it was both necessary and unnecessary to be present. What compelled her to go? She stopped and looked up at the sky, eyeing a shooting star and wondered if that was Gaz letting her know that she was alright. That was something she would like to think.

"Where have you been? I called Alexander to look for you," Dib admonished as he greeted her at the door, seeing the state she was in. He furrowed his brows and hurried down the stairs, taking his wife in his arms. "What happened?"

"Dib…she….Gaz she…"

Dib held his wife at arms lengths as she fought to complete her sentence. He shook his head.

"No. No. Really, where were you?"

"Dib, I'm so sorry. I went to see her, and-"

He tightened his hold on her, embracing her fully. They remained that way for what seemed like hours. Joshua looked at Zinovia as she held onto the door, watching the two. Her eyes widened, tears streaming heatedly down her cheeks and she shook her head. Joshua reached out for her and pulled her away from the scene as she collapsed in her cousin's arms.

Zim returned to the bedroom he shared with Gaz, looking at her body. He stood there what felt like hours, feeling the cold seep into the room. A cocktail of emotions surged through him, balling his hands into fists as he slammed it down against the wall as he slid down and onto the floor, leaving a cracked drywall behind him. He flexed his hand and picked the shards of drywall from his skin, watching his blood trickle down. He didn't flinch and assumed some there was varying degrees of pain and some hurt worse than others.


	15. Dib's Troubling Cabinet Battle

Chapter 15, how exciting! Am I right?

Zim'sMostLoyalServant: I thought about Spork, but didn't want it too much with two great leadership figures as Zim's father. I thought Miyuki was enough.

Invader Johnny: I know, right? What an unpleasant build up of raw emotion that may come back to bite a hated enemy for Zim. Am I doing well with Zim as a father?

Please give me your thoughts and perhaps any questions. I love your reviews, guys! Thank you!

* * *

 **Chapter 15- What'd I Miss?/Cabinet Battle #1**

 **1789**

Gaz was buried near the church Amelia took the children to on Sundays. Dib knew that Gaz wouldn't want to be buried in a church's cemetery, and even considered Zim's phobia's of human superstitions. There was a plot of land nearby, to which Dib paid to have dedicated to his sister. He had always thought they would be buried beside one another, but he would respect her wishes. Besides, when his time came, they would never be too far apart.

From an aerial view, black plumes gathered around the plot as the casket was lowered. Zim's hands rested upon his daughter's shoulders as the little girl attempted to compose herself. Zim picked her up and held her when her sniffles worsened and her small frame began to tremble. Dib allowed his tears to flow freely, feeling another part of him departing the Earth. Weight was applied on his shoulder to see the elder Membrane squeeze his son's shoulder, his face stoic. He was trying to hold back his tears.

Membrane and Gaz were never close. Dib was open to slowly accepting their father back, whereas Gaz kept her distance. The past was the past for a reason, she reasoned. Still, the elder Membrane and his wife mourned the loss of the young woman.

Dib leaned against his wife for support, although was unable to tear his eyes from his niece. He wondered what was shifting and shaping within Zim's mind, who appeared stone-faced and oddly placid. Was he keeping a strong front for Zinovia? If they were anything of friends, Dib would offer consolation. Instead, he stuck with his wife. Gretchen watched the children, and the absence of Skoodge meant he was with her and the Ryder family.

His mind swam callously. First Zim with Gaz, then Skoodge with Gretchen. Did no one see the danger that rode from this? Perhaps the aliens were choosing their favorites to savor, no better than considerable pets. Glimpsing back at the plot as the rope lowered into the dirt, he let the thought go. Right now was not the time for such. Instead, another thought entered his mind that only his wife could answer.

"Have you been able to see her?" Dib asked Amelia, who squeezed her husband's hand before kissing it.

"My love, give her time."

 _"We all mourn the end of a loved one's life. However, their suffering has ended, their spirit flies freely and their world has righted itself. Gazlene left behind a daughter, a part of her to continue roaming this world, allowing her name to live on. Remember her not as she died, but how she lived,"_ the preacher gave his eulogy.

Zim swallowed a hard lump in his throat, turning away with Zinovia when there was nothing left to see. Zinovia didn't need to see this plot of land, he would bring her back when it was filled with flowers. He considered leaving her with Amelia and her children, however, felt he needed Zinovia more at the moment and the little girl refused to leave her father after that point forward. They were all they had. Madge walked beside Zim and held the umbrella over his head.

"Isn't it interesting, how humans end so quickly? It would take a lot more than that for an Irken to crumble," Madge said. Zim, once more, felt his eye and antennae twitch with displeasure at his companion's open thoughts.

"I don't think right now is the time to look at the humans like a science experiment," Zim said, bouncing his daughter to adjust her. The little girl stared at Madge with her large hazel lenses.

"That was my mother." Was all the little girl said.

* * *

Several weeks passed, a knock came at the Membrane door. The elder Membrane and his wife were at Dib's doorstep with the thirtieth fruit and meat basket. First, it became an excuse to provide the family with condolence baskets, and then just an excuse to come over and see the children. Martha entered as the children squealed their greetings to their grandmother. Her old heart gushed with joy.

Amelia gave her father-in-law a hug, a gesture she conducted to express her respect and sympathies.

"Is all well?" Amelia inquired.

"I'm afraid I must speak to Dib. I've received word of another impending issue I need his assistance with. I've stalled a response long enough to give all of us time to grieve." Membrane looked away. "I'm running out of time and need to put together my best."

Amelia stilled. That would mean Dib leaving the family. Obviously, she couldn't stop him. He was getting along with his father and they would need one another during this crucial time. If Dib had to leave, at least he wouldn't be alone if he awoke to another nightmare.

"I know it's a lot to ask, Amelia. Trust me, I was settled in my science and Martha was content with me being home….just as it seems Dib was content with his family."

She nodded and poured two cups of tea. "I'll go get him," she said in barely above a whisper and left the room faster than she should have. Membrane looked down at that, truly feeling pained at having to tear the family apart.

When Dib entered the room, there was initial silence. Membrane looked intently at the fireplace before turning to face his son. His stern frown said it all and Dib's eyes settled.

"They're asking me to lead," Membrane explained to Dib, Amelia leaned against the door to listen. "I need you at my side to be my right-hand-man."

"Lead? As General again?" He asked. "Is there another war?"

"No. The people seek a leader to run this newly found country."

"Do you really think it's a wise idea?" Dib inquired, placing his hands behind his back.

"Is studying a science such as the paranormal a wise idea? Is it lucrative enough to support your family?"

Dib's face was blank as he felt his passion, once more, poked at.

"I know it's a lot to ask. I was just telling Amelia that I hate asking you to leave all of this behind, but no one works the way you do. And I mean that with all sincerity."

Dib didn't react, his facial expression stoic as he gave the matter some thought. Getting away and working would take his mind off the constant reminder that his sister was no longer present. He would push the grievance away for a time.

"What department do you need me for? Treasury? State?"

"Treasury. I hear you're working on a new project pertaining to treasury?"

"I can track expenses. I've been working on a lot of new things. Now, which can wait. Let's go."

Amelia's heart dropped to hear her husband so willing to leave. She squeezed her eyes and stepped away from the door, ascending the stairs to see Martha and the children. Amelia would cope, as she had every other time he left.

"When will it be enough?" She whispered.

"Amelia!" Gretchen called from her doorway. Amelia smiled and embraced her sister as she entered the foyer of her home. "I can't stay for long. I've got to talk to you and Dib about something important."

"You're leaving," Amelia whispered. "With Skoodge?"

Gretchen was surprised that her sister guessed it, although she smiled. Her face radiated something she hadn't felt since she first met Dib. The two held little contact with one another, but when she closed her eyes at night, his eyes reflected back into hers and she crumbled all over again. She kept her distance for that reason, there for her sister and the children when they needed it and when they called for her, but she never went deliberately out of her way. Gretchen couldn't bring herself to break her sister's heart. Dib married Amelia and that was that.

"He asked me to leave with him while times were still good to do so," Gretchen confirmed with a curt nod. "He's a good man, and genuinely seems interested, and to care about me."

Amelia bit her lip. She needed to warn her sister what she was getting into. "Where? Gretchen, he is one of Zim's friends, and-"

"London." Gretchen stopped Amelia before she had a chance to criticize or attack Skoodge, perhaps retribution for the hard time she gave her about Dib when he first courted her. This was her chance to find happiness, finally. She couldn't allow her sister to spoil anything for her, and wouldn't.

"London!? Gretchen, that's too far," Amelia protested.

Gretchen took her sister's hands into her own. "It'll be fine. We'll write often, and you'll come visit, right?"

She was really putting herself out like this. Amelia was happy that Gretchen finally decided to settle down with someone compatible for her. Perhaps because he was a friend of Zim's…meant he was of a different caliber than the other. Then again, Zim was attempting to separate his feelings and figure himself out. So perhaps when all of this passed, Zim would be less volatile. Gretchen wasn't open to reasoning, Amelia wouldn't press, couldn't press. Gretchen was set, and all Amelia could do for her was smile and lock her sister tight to her chest.

"Of course. Be well, sister." Gretchen kissed her cheek just as the parlor doors opened to see Dib and Membrane step out. The elder, taller Membrane was intimidating in stature, to which Gretchen swallowed and took a step back, offering a curtsey in her traveling coat.

Dib took wind of Gretchen's departure, "You're leaving?"

"Don't talk like it's forever. I'll be back." She offered a smile, doing all but promising this. "I came to say goodbye to you, Amelia, and the family."

Amelia realized then that it may have taken her some time, but Gretchen was finally finding her voice. She knew it was a matter of when and not if.

"Well, best wishes to you, young lady," Membrane said as he tipped his hat to her, glimpsed back at Dib before nodding to him, kissed the back of Amelia's hand and left with Martha in tow, who left the sleeping children lying on blankets on their playroom floor.

"Can we talk in the garden?" Dib asked.

Gretchen nodded in compliance and walked through and towards the back of the house, into the garden where wildflowers bloomed. Bees captured their pollen and hummingbirds suckled their nectar. She had never given their yard much thought, coming out here with Amelia once or twice when Diana was born.

"I didn't think you'd be leaving."

"It was bound to happen sometime," Gretchen shrugged nonchalantly. "I've met a good man who will care for me."

Dib stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I have so much to thank you for. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have this now."

The words slowly cut into Gretchen as she turned away to study a pink budding rose. She felt the jagged edge of its leaf against her finger. "So long as you're satisfied."

Dib chuckled at that, "Nowadays? I'm never satisfied, still. You would think I'd be able to tell my wife that, right?" He looked at her. "I'm too afraid to. She'll get upset."

She blinked in surprise at hearing those words. "So, then, what kind of marriage do you have?"

The words now cut into Dib. Surely, he loved Amelia and she birthed him two beautiful children, thus far. He suspected she was pregnant with their third child, another mouth to feed that this position would assist in. Things just weren't the same. He chose to neglect Gretchen's question.

Dib cleared his throat. "When do you leave?"

"Tonight. We're taking the late ship out."

"Write when you get there?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Gretchen nodded before bucking up the courage to kiss him on the cheek, departing from the home after telling her sister goodbye one final time, asking her to tell the children when they woke, as well. She didn't want them woken up on her behalf. Amelia promised to comply and waved her sister off as she strode down the street.

* * *

Dib was not surprised to find Zim and Madge present for their initial meeting as the President's cabinet. While Zim took on this position, he reluctantly left Zinovia in Amelia's care, once more. He found the woman useful; she cared well for his daughter. Her warm personality left Zim uncomfortable, though, her smile was disarming. She was no Gaz, but she would do as another womanly figure in Zinovia's life.

The room itself was intimidatingly white, save the light wooden table and chairs. He could smell the fresh coat of varnish on them. This table and chair set had been specifically commissioned for the President and his cabinet. Surely, he was proud when his father was sworn in and asked to lead the country. His stepmother had told him that leadership ran in the family. He found it odd considering her as such, sometimes mentally he stated the facts of her position to him, but never out loud. It was enough to process that Membrane, the President, was his birth father.

Dib, Zim, Porter, Blake, a sprinkle of other men that he had met that day: Connor White, Bruce Avery, and Rudolph "Rudy" Walker. Zim's friend was also in presence, and a handful of other men that Dib, for the life of him, couldn't remember the names of, despite the fact it was in his political interest to know them.

"Poonchy Jefferson will be joining us next week for our official first cabinet meeting," Membrane explained at the podium. The oval table seated the few men he had gathered so far.

"I do have a question that can be potentially answered in this room." The heads turned towards the owner of the voice, which was Zim.

"Was the army we had composed together years ago this nation's greatest defense? Do you think these are similar elsewhere?"

"What are you driving at, Zim?" Dib inquired. "Are you looking to start an uprising? Why else would you ask those questions?"

"I must admit, those are some pretty skeptical questions, young man," Membrane commented as he folded his hands together, elbows on the podium.

"Nonsense, I meant in terms of… _strengthening_ these defenses. Certainly, they're enough to overthrow those who opposed the independence of this nation; it was strictly a matter of curiosity." Zim glared at Dib.

"You have always been against me, Zim," Dib countered that. "Perhaps you're against America, as well?"

"I fought in the war, as well, Dib-sludge." Nods of agreement paraded the table. Zim smirked victoriously. "Although—what is this I understand about you wanting to establish…a place to store monies?"

"It's a financial distribution center. It's actually proving to be better than you think." Voices hummed around the room.

"Sounds to me like you're trying to pocket other people's monies." Silence followed Zim's statement.

Zim had managed to redirect the conversation and whip it against Dib. He felt his skin tingle with anger, shaking his head as he slumped back in his seat.

"I'm afraid I must agree with our olive skinned friend," said another voice in the doorway. "My friend, Nick Madison, informed me of what the son of our leader has been up to." He gestured to the grinning male beside him.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Dib groaned. "What's wrong with him?"

"His face froze that way." Poonchy shrugged.

"Ah, Poonchy Jefferson. I'm glad you could make it. I thought we weren't expecting you until tomorrow?"

"I took an early ship," Poonchy replied and took a seat beside Membrane opposite of Dib's seat, glancing at the other cabinet members. Madge quirked a brow at this and leaned forward at the table.

"Gentlemen. Whether we'd like to realize it or not, the world is in debt."

"The world is in danger, too," Dib said beneath his breath, earning him a look from his father.

"Dib here has composed a solution. I understand we have some opposition against his plan?"

"They're only opposing because they just don't like me."

"Alright, settle down," Membrane sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright. I thought this debate was going to wait until tomorrow, but you men appear ready for it now."

"We fought for the ideas of liberty and freedom. Are we ready for another puppet of the government? Dib is a loose cannon. Always ready for a fight, constantly wearing rouge," Poonchy stood as he began his debate.

Dib looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing a stitch of rouge on him. Poonchy continued.

"Now, granted, if we were to allot Dib here what he wants, the government assumes the debts. Now, who does that benefit? Oh, that's right, _Dib_." He uttered the man's name with malice.

"That's not true!" Dib retorted.

"No one else should have to bear the weight of this plan. I'm afraid our friend Zim is right, it sounds like Dib is looking to move the money around to fatten his coin purse."

"Really?" Dib looked up at the other as Poonchy glared at him. "Does no one see what is happening? We're in trouble, gentlemen. All we're trying to do is run a real nation and combat the debt we've incurred. You're going to listen to someone who's been in a hidey-hole in France? C'mon. Not only that, listen to Zim redirect the main questions—someone else you should be concerned with. You don't think those aren't questions of someone who has plans to dominate us?"

"Oh my God, he IS crazy," one of the cabinet members said.

Dib's face fell as his raised fist in his moment of passionate argument lowered. "Wait, what?"

"Zim? Zim is trying to dominate the world when he saved our rears back in Yorktown?" Madge asked. "Why would someone who saved our rears want to take it over? Why not take it over when he had the chance when all of us were in jeopardy?"

"You're in cahoots with him!" Dib practically screamed.

The banging of a gavel sounded behind him as Membrane shook his head in pure unadulterated disappointment. That was a look Dib never wanted to see from someone towards him, ever. Disappointment was worse than anger. Disappointment lingered longer than anger.

"Alright, alright, slow down," Membrane said, placing the gavel down. "Enough."

"You're ranting this way because you don't have the votes on your side," Poonchy said, bumping fists with Nick Madison, who simply grinned.

"And I'm afraid if you don't have enough votes, well, we can have you removed."

Dib turned his head towards Membrane, who nodded sadly in agreement. He expected so much more of his son. His poor, insane son.

"I know you all don't believe me, but Zim is NOT on our side. Neither is his friend, Madge. You'll see." He sounded like a ranting lunatic on a soapbox to anyone who would listen, or pay him any sound mind.

"Perhaps our Treasurer should take a brief recess back home?" Zim suggested.

"You would like that, wouldn't you!?" Dib snapped.

Another sharp, loud pound of the gavel. "Alright, we'll reconvene. Dib, maybe you should go home."

Dib balked at the suggestion. He had his chance, he took his shot and it missed. Slowly, he was deflating and descending into the depths where he originated. All of this just to receive dismissal. Dib couldn't tell if he wanted to cry, punch something, or something else that he wasn't sure of yet. His stomach was giving him mixed signals on what it needed at the moment.

Sighing, he picked himself up, passing the other cabinet members as they consoled Zim on the vicious accusations held against him. He didn't look over his shoulder to see if anyone looked back, instead, he kept walking. His steps echoed in the hallway, the sound of his father's gavel behind him. The sound resonated in his eardrums and caused Dib to shiver uncomfortably.

"You know, I believe you."

Dib picked his head up, stopping in his steps in the middle of the City Hall hallway. A sole woman was standing there, her purple hair loose around her shoulders. A beauty mark touched beneath her left eye. He recognized her from years ago, when he first began this quest when he arrived in the city with his sister. She wore a white pinstriped dress on this day, thick black lines cascading vertically, the bodice with wisps of purple. She was leaning against the wall, where odd papers hung loosely for events and reminders. However, he only noticed her.

"I'm sorry, miss?"

"I believe you. I couldn't help but overhear." She picked herself up from the wall, the heels of her boots clacking against the marble flooring as she approached him. "You may not believe it, but you're famed in these parts. Decorated war hero of Yorktown, exceptional investigator-"

"That's more my son," Dib said sheepishly. "He sees the ghosts."

"He's _your_ son," she agreed. "I'm afraid I'm familiar with your friend Zim in there, and he's bad news."

Dib felt his heart nearly stop. Was this woman real? He looked down at her as she took his arm and began to usher him out of the hall and into the streets. He felt her hand around his arm. Yep, this was real.

"Forgive me for being too forward, but I do believe we can have a very valuable partnership and can put a stop to him."

Dib felt himself slightly swoon. Aside from his own wife, hardly anyone believed Dib—the meeting back there proved it. He simply lacked a proper support system, he realized. Zim had the table eating out of his hand. He needed to combat fire with fire. If this woman was the start of a support line for him, then it could only mean good. She had to have known people. He found himself very attracted to this prospect.

The woman's eyes appeared hopeful and desperate at the same time for him to reply with a nod or a shake of his head. She wanted him to say yes.

"What has Zim done to you?" He asked. "For you to be so hell bent on stopping him?"

"Zim and I have a long and aggravated history," she said, honestly. She reminded herself to not give away too much in one sitting, especially within hearing distance of the other. "He has done a lot of wrong by me."

Dib was uncertain how to take that. He opened the doors to exit the building. It had begun to rain, her arm tightened on his bicep as he looked down at her. Dib shrugged his coat off and offered it to her to place over her. She gave him a look of surprise at the gesture—the human element. Most of them were stupid and ignored her on the street. This one was less challenged than others were.

"I suggest we start soon. There are some," she paused, "friends I want you to meet."

Inwardly, Dib squeaked with joy. He knew it. She knew people who could be of help. There was hope yet. Since public announcements were stirring more complexities than assistance, Dib understand then that this would have to be dealt with privately.

"Oh, but before we begin. What's your name?"

"Oh me? My name is Tak."


	16. Take a Break

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant:** I like how perceptive you are. The more I'm writing this, the more I'm intrigued by how this is panning out, myself. I especially like how young Joshua is a Medium.

 **Invader Johnny:** Tak certainly is a handful, herself. I know. This should be fun.

Thank you, again, guys! Please continue to leave me your feedback!

* * *

 **Chapter 16- Take a Break**

The soft tinkling of a piano sounded from the first floor of their home. They purchased it shortly after moving in and Amelia would play for the children so they fell asleep. It came exceptionally handy on challenging nights, when the children were teething or had fevers. The gentle sound of the piano and their mother's voice lulled them to sleep.

The sound came from their son, who on top of studying the paranormal with his father, learned classical music with his mother. Joshua was an exceptional young man with promise. Dib wanted to put every ounce forward to providing his son with the life he deserved. He and Diana. He was in the middle of writing a letter to Gretchen. The two of them wrote frequently back and forth, more communication than they ever had here. He wondered if that was part of her personality, a matter of comfort. But, either way, he was just happy to be talking, erm, writing to her and really get to know her. He wished he had sooner, he found her to be quite witty when she wanted to be. Perhaps marriage suited her, able to be free from the binds of prior spinsterhood. Anything was imaginable.

"Papa?" He heard the soft feminine voice of his daughter on the other side of the door. He smiled to himself and got up from his desk to open the door to see young Diana, eight-years-old, wearing a pink dress.

"What is it, honey?"

"We're going to sing to Joshua soon, are you coming?"

"I'll be down a bit. Save me a plate, okay?" He leaned down to kiss her forehead, looking so much like Amelia, even down to her facial expressions.

His son turned nine years old today. The little boy had such a ripe personality, truly a fruit of both he and his wife. A passionate learner, and took great interest in his father's work. He had the ability to be anything he desired in life. Dib intended to send him off to the best tutor when he was of age to leave them.

And, as it was on every birthday, Amelia found herself at Dib's doorway after Diana had left to remind him to come down. The past three birthdays, including his own, were a tightened worst.

"Come down, Dib. Joshua is asking for you." Her hands were at her lap.

"I'll be right down. I'm wrapping this up."

She found herself frowning. "Dib."

"Amelia, please understand-"

"When you do it on my birthday, it is one thing. But the children? They're counting on you." The woman huffed a sigh. "Please." The further she studied her husband, he appeared more fatigued than the last. She began bunching her apron in her hands as she pondered a solution to this problem. Dib desperately needed a break from work that he would never openly admit to her, constantly assuring her that he had things under control.

But, he didn't.

"Joshua, play that piece again for momma, okay?" She called out before entering the room. She placed her hand upon his shoulder before sliding it down to his chest. She pulled him away from the piece of paper long enough to take a seat upon his lap.

She bent her head down to kiss him softly, missing the feeling of his lips against hers. The amount of work Dib had taken upon him dampened any chance encounter for the couple to be just that, a couple. He was so wound up from attempting to thwart Zim, he was exhausted from attempting to get the cabinet to listen to any of his ideas, which were solid and sound. Mentally, she was begging for Dib to return her kiss.

"I'm sorry, Amelia," she heard him whisper against her lips. "I've been negligent as a father, as a husband." He bent his head down to rest at her chest. "I'm so…" He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

"You need to take a break," she said. "Your solution lies in a break with your family. Let's go upstate, they have a festival coming up. The kids will love it, and you'll have an opportunity to relax. My parents can take the kids. What do you say?"

Dib wrapped his arms around his wife. "As tempting as that sounds, I'll lose my job if I take a break. I must get this done. You take the kids, enjoy the festival."

"It won't be much of one without you."

"You make the atmosphere, Amelia," he offered her a smile. "Not me. I'm the killjoy, remember? Diana said so herself." He chuckled softly.

Amelia cradled his head. He closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of her heartbeat.

Her fingers trailed along the scythe of his hair. "Joshua has a surprise for you. You should come down."

Finally, Dib nodded in compliance before looking up at his wife and kissed her apologetically before sliding her off of his lap so they could walk down. Amelia watched Dib depart from the room, feeling the detachment grow between the two. She had hoped this was merely a phase from him overworking himself.

Diana sat beside her brother at the piano, singing to the piano's tune as Joshua played one of her songs. He grinned to his little sister, who reached over with her entire body and turned the page. Dib descended the staircase to watch the two interact and smiled. It reminded him so much of he and Gaz when they were his children's age.

Every year since the passed, Dib lit a candle and prayed that she would come to him. Gaz never revealed herself to him, and he wondered, perhaps, if it was because she was dedicating herself to her daughter and lover who needed her more. But, surely, she had to know that he needed her, too.

Amelia descended the stairs after Dib, looking ahead past her children as something caught her eye. Joshua heard the footsteps and turned in his seat, practically bouncing off as he ran to give his father a hug. Neither of his children were ashamed to show either of their parents' affection. Dib wrapped his arms around his son, holding him to his form.

"Happy Birthday, son!" He petted his son's smaller scaled scythe.

"Papa, I have a surprise for you." His blue eyes lit up, which caused Dib to smile.

"And what surprise might that be?" He asked.

Joshua hurried away from him and back towards the piano, gesturing to the empty seat. Initially, Dib assumed Joshua wanted him to join him at the piano. His son held his hand out to stop his father as he took steps towards it.

Joshua's scythe bounced as he motioned his head from the piano bench to where his father stood. "I've asked her to come!"

Dib's brows knitted together. "Asked who to come?"

"Aunt Gaz! Can't you see her, dad?" Joshua asked innocently. Dib's face fell before squinting to see if he could see any transparency, any hint of a form. Joshua never lost his gift to see spirits. They came to him just as they seldom came to Amelia.

"I can't see her, son," Dib whispered. "We've talked about crying wolf, Josh."

"But dad…"

"He's not faking, Dib. She's here," Amelia said as she held Diana against her. "Can't you feel the eerie chill?"

"She started coming around. Aunt Gaz didn't think you were ready to see her. She says you work too much," Joshua said, looking down at the ground. "Are you angry?"

"Don't be mad at him," a fourth voice said, one that caused Dib's head to perk up. Joshua looked over to where the voice came from, the young spirit medium placed his hand on the transparent lap. "I was taking my time."

Dib felt himself tear up. His body felt the utter exhaustion sink in as his mind worked to process this to make certain that he was not hearing things. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes, tears slipping between his fingers.

"Open your eyes, dumbass."

"Don't swear in front of the kids," he admonished with a laugh. That voice was unmistakable. He opened his eyes to see her, violet curls, wearing the dress they buried her in. She was smiling, something she rarely did when she was living apart from Zinovia's arrival.

"Buck up. I'm here." Dib readjusted his glasses and sat on his knees at her feet, looking up at her. She reached out a hand to flick his scythe, albeit, he barely felt the action. Her skin was translucent, glowing with illusionary static. Gaz was silent in her motions, urging him to sit beside her on the bench. Dib complied.

Amelia called Joshua over to stand by her and Diana to let their father have his moment with one of the people he missed the most. Amelia ran her hand over her son's hair softly. "That was a selfless thing you did for your father," she whispered to him. "I'm so proud of you." Joshua offered his mother a sleepy smile.

"Daddy was sad, so I wanted to make it better." Amelia squeezed her children to her. She felt like she was doing something right with her children.

"Have you seen Zim?" Dib asked.

"Oh, I know all about the bull Zim has been pulling. I told him to lay off, or I would haunt him for the rest of his days. It didn't seem like much of a threat for him."

Dib chuckled. "No, it wouldn't be for him, would it? Do you...resent him at all?"

Gaz took a moment to give her brother's question some hard thought. "No, I don't, Dib." Dib's face was expressionless after that. He didn't see how Gaz could say such a thing, but he didn't see the situation through her eyes.

"Sadly, I have to go. My stays are limited, but I'll be back." Gaz offered him a half smile to him, Amelia and the children before slowly fading away. Dib wiped a stray tear that had managed to escape. Joshua moved away from his mother to be at his father's side, where Dib clutched his son tightly to him, cradling him at the back of his head.

* * *

A knock sounded at the door. Amelia looked down at Diana and silently gestured for the young girl to follow her so her father could have a moment. Upon opening the door, her eyes lit up to see her sister standing there. The girls indulged in a chorus of squealing and laughter, embracing the other tightly. It had been years, despite the letters coming weekly.

"Look at you," the girls said in unison, encouraging another round of laughter.

"Gretchen, it's been so long."

"I've missed you, too. Where are the boys?"

"In the parlor. Joshua was just indulging us with a medley," Amelia smiled as she took her sister by the arm and escorted her in the room. "How long are you in town for?"

"I thought we could all go to the festival upstate. I was thinking a few weeks?"

Amelia admired where her sister was currently in life. She spoke freely, unafraid. Amelia was thrilled that she had evolved from her cocoon.

"That sounds just fine with me. I was trying to encourage my husband, here, to come with us."

"Dib wouldn't be coming?" She frowned softly.

"His work is keeping him hostage."

Dib straightened when Gretchen entered the room, looking at her as though he had seen a spirit. Recovering from one surprise, to receive another.

"Hi," he greeted.

"It's good to see you again."

He nodded in response, patting his son on the head as he walked over to the women and picked Diana up in his arms, resting her at his hip. He was elated after knowing his sister was well and allowed him to see her. Gaz always enjoyed being in control and now she had all of it.

Seeing the look on Amelia's face, he didn't argue and attended supper at the table for the first time in what felt like ages. He indulged in listening to his children tell their aunt all they had accomplished while she was away, from teeth missing and being replaced by their adult teeth, to height.

"Since I'm in town for a little bit, why don't we all take a vacation to the festival by grandma and grandpa?" Gretchen addressed the children. They bounced in their seats at the idea, looking to their mother and father for approval.

"Please? Momma? Papa? Can we go?" The children said in unison, to which Gretchen laughed.

"Children, you know papa has a lot of work to do," Dib said, looking up at the sisters. He didn't appreciate them being in cahoots with one another to ambush him. "I would if I could."

"Just for a night?" Gretchen asked.

"Papa, please?"

Dib never wanted to deny his children anything. If only they understood that all of which he was doing was for them. Little did he realize that he was going back on his word of being a supporting father. After he got passed this trial of approval. When things started running smoothly, he would make it up to them. Without warning, he rose from the table and shook his head, Joshua and Diana quieted.

"I have a lot of work to do. I'm sorry. If I don't get this approval, we're done for. If I take a break, I lose everything I've worked for. I would go if I could, but I can't." With that said, he left the dining room to continue what he was working on. From his office, he heard the disappointment drip in his children's voices. Dib lowered his head onto his desk, burying his head in his hands.

He needed a break.

* * *

To top him off, he heard the sound of Joshua's voice perk up when Zim entered their household with Zinnovia, their tiny footsteps hurried upstairs and towards their playroom, where their books, blocks, and toys were stationed. If he had an option, he would never allow his enemy within his home. Zim was trying to block Dib from progressing in his seat. However, Dib and Amelia agreed that their children wouldn't be denied their cousin, and especially on his only son's birthday.

He rose from his desk and plucked his coat from the coatrack. Shrugging the item on, he poked his head in the playroom where his niece and children were taking turns reading fairytales. Heading downstairs, he saw Zim at his dining table. He was uncertain what came over him, then. But at that moment, more than anything, he wanted an end put to Zim. Perhaps he was tired, he needed justification for this anger and resentment that balled like ice in his stomach.

Zim stared back at him, sitting in between Amelia and Gretchen. The men exchanged little to no words as Dib shook his head and exited the house, his coat sweeping behind him. Amelia rose from the table, her face fallen like ash. Zim eyed her and coaxed her to sit back down. Gretchen took her hand.

"He's under a lot of pressure," she whispered to Amelia.

Dib stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked through the streets, the grounds wet from the freshly fallen rain hours ago, just before Gaz had appeared before him. His mind was swimming with the pressure that had smothered him. He needed a break, he desired an opening to the blockade that was in front of him.

* * *

Rounding a corner, he saw the pub's sign swinging with the breeze that had picked up. He yawned a sigh and thought it better to stop in for a drink, as opposed to roaming the streets too far from home. If this was as close to a break as he was going to get, then so be it. He entered the establishment to see the tables occupied with workers after their shifts had ended. He sat down at the bar front, requesting for a pint. He took no notice to those that rounded the bend of the bar.

"Hey stranger. You look stressed," a sultry feminine voice cooed. Dib picked his head up and wiggled his ring finger at the woman, his gold band glinting in the candlelight.

"Well, I won't look if you won't," a second said. "We don't like seeing such handsome men looking as distraught as you." Dib chuckled a bit, eyeing them cautiously.

"I'm not interested, thank you, though," he managed politely, focusing his eyes at the bar tender and leaving the monetary equivalent plus tip, sliding the currency to the provider of his relief. He took a hearty swig, feeling the satisfaction slide down his throat.

"C'mon, love. Give us a chance."

"The man said he wasn't interested, ladies," came a voice Dib recognized. The voice strung behind him, from one of the tables in the back. "Now scram."

He straightened in his seat and turned around fully to see her get up from the seat, her hips swaying gently with each step she took. He found himself staring for longer than he should have, noticing the smile that formed on her lips.

"This one's mine."

The women glared at her and got up from their places at the bar to head towards the back, seeking their business from the other tired workers. Tak made sure they had left before she took a seat beside Dib.

"What are you doing here with men like this?" Dib asked her. "A woman like you-"

"A woman like me is none of your concern," Tak reminded him, gesturing to his wedding band. "All you should be worried about is how I can help you get what you want."

Dib raised his brows before taking another deep swig of his beer, readying for his second pint. "Whether you're my woman or not, I look at it all the same. You shouldn't be hanging out with the riff raff this late."

"As a matter of fact, my husband does business with some of the men here." She had a cover and would play it to her advantage. If Dib thought she was a single woman, he would spare more feelings and more expense on her than she wanted. "I'm here on behalf of him."

"Your husband?"

"That's right. But, let's discuss what's important here. I have what _you_ want. I've written to some of my contacts, who are very interested in taking on this mission. The more you have on your side, the better."

"If we can make this work. I'm willing to give anything a shot. He took my sister from me, is sitting in my kitchen now with my wife and sister-in-law. He thwarts me in work, what the fuck else do I have to lose?" He sighed.

Tak placed her hand on his shoulder, before trailing it down to his hand. "Shhh. Have faith it'll happen, because it will. Let him think he has the upper hand, it'll make his fall all the sweeter."

Dib eyed his hand, then back at Tak. "Who are your contacts?"

She attempted to think of a quick cover, or how to better explain it. "So far, I have a confirmation from…call him, Mr. Meek."

"He's afraid? That's your bright plan?" Dib asked skeptically.

Tak took the pint from him, he looked at the space where the mug once rested and pouted. She sighed, "don't be fresh. Call him Mr. Meek."

"Perhaps you should rest up before we begin."

Dib shook his head. "Let's just get this started."

Tak shrugged. "Have it your way. We get straight to work. But, there's just one thing before we begin. I need you to have an open mind. We're fighting fire with fire."


	17. Say No to This

I officially hate myself for writing this.

However, I'm overall pleased with this rendition of "Say No to This."

Dib could have said no.

Give me your thoughts, guys! Thank you!

* * *

 **Chapter 17- Say No to This**

After that night, husband and wife barely spoke to one another. Gretchen had retired to their upstairs guest room, Zim was still downstairs with Amelia. It appeared the children had fallen asleep, Zinovia's head on Joshua's shoulder, and his head atop of hers, while Diana's head rested on her brother's lap. It was a sight to see the children that way, and it would be a shame to wake them. Dib looked at Amelia wearily as Zim stood, the men refusing to speak to one another as Zim crossed past him to retrieve his daughter and take her home.

"You two were talking this entire time?"

Her eyes were red, swollen, appearing just as exhausted as his. His attitude was taking a toll on her attempting to be brave and lively for the children. He leaned against the kitchen wall, inches away from the table as she didn't make motion to move. She held the handle of her coffee mug, her wedding band glinting against it as another wave of tears hit her. Her left hand covered her mouth as the choked sounds of sorrow were muffled, as intended. Her head bent down to release. Dib simply stood there, knowing well she would reject him if he tried.

Zinovia's head was on her father's shoulder, the Irken turned. Dib's hands in his pockets, while Amelia relieved herself of whatever was stirring inside of her. Irkens barely showed emotion. They felt it, expressed little of it aside from the glee of wining a battle, the depths of victory resonated well with the Irkens. Zim had felt many things in his duration here, admitting to himself that it was beneficial to learn from them first, as opposed to the immediate attack. He found he disliked the sound of a woman's cry, the smell of her tears as they fell. Gaz rarely cried, but when she did, Zim cringed.

And now here was the second influential woman to him, crying over her sad excuse for a husband that walked out on her, as opposed to making sure his mate was satisfied. If there was one thing Irkens prided themselves on was that they were loyal. And if Dib wasn't willing to be loyal to his wife in her time of need, then who would be?

"Get out of here, Zim," Dib said lowly. "This is not your place to be here."

"You're right, it's not," he said, finally. His eyes bore down at Amelia. "It's yours, Dib. And you're neglecting her."

The couple heard the steps of the Irken as he made his way towards the door, closing the door behind him. Amelia picked her head up, registering Zim's words in her head. She considered that to be the first time someone had ever stuck up for her before.

* * *

Dib and Amelia considered it best if she and Gretchen took the children upstate to visit her parents. The children deserved to see their grandparents, who often wrote and asked for them. Dib hailed a carriage for his family, the children hurried out with their aunt. The driver helped them apply the bags into their proper compartments before Dib glanced at Amelia. She had been silent throughout the morning, with the exception of telling the children to get ready. However, after a time, Gretchen took over.

Dib reached out and tucked two fingers beneath her chin, turning her head to face him. "As much as I hate him, Zim was right. And, I'm sorry."

She placed her hand over his, looking up at him. She removed his hand from her chin, kissing the palm of it before settling it back down.

"It'll be different when you come back, alright? I'll have everything figured out."

"I…look forward to having my husband back," she finally replied before stepping away from him. Gretchen held her arm out for her sister as she shot Dib a look and closed the door behind them.

A day or so after they had left, he wrote for Tak to come by to begin their work. The downstairs office was littered with papers, ink stains, which his shirt had also adopted. When her knock came at the door, he looked down at himself and headed to answer it.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks for noticing," he replied and moved so she could enter the house. "There's not much to eat, I'm afraid."

"I've brought something." She held up a basket. "I've heard it's customary to bring a gift when going to someone's home."

Dib blinked and accepted the basket. Crusty bread, some cheeses, and wine. It certainly would do, as he hadn't eaten decently since his wife had left. She filled in the blanks, when he forgot to eat, she reminded him. Now, he didn't have that.

"Thank you," he replied.

"Perhaps you should take a bath," she suggested next. "I'll keep myself busy down here."

In normal circumstances, Dib would never have invited a woman he barely met into his home, let alone allow her to order him around. Normally, he'd have his wife present. However, as exhausted as he was, he headed for the back where their bathroom was, already beginning to heat up water.

"When was the last time you got some decent rest?"

"I honestly can't remember," he replied.

"We can't work together if you don't rest up, Dib. I've told you that. I need you of sound mind in order for this to work."

"I can still talk while I'm in here," Dib replied. She could hear the shuffle of cloth as he removed them. He sniffed them and was prepared to burn them. They smelled like he had been living in them for weeks. The splash of water came next as he began the cleansing process.

Tak began to look around the house, the number of trinkets on their mantle, how homely and cozy they had designed their residence. It felt like no time at all when Dib returned with a fresh pair of black pants on, having to retrieve a shirt. In the meantime, he ran the towel over his hair as it stood on all ends when he was through, eliciting a laugh from the woman in his peripheral.

He blushed, almost forgetting she was present as she eyed him, one leg crossed over the other, holding a rather pleased smirk on her face. Instinctively, he looked to cover himself with the towel, which caused her to laugh harder and sent him up the stairs to retrieve his shirt before she could laugh any harder at him.

"So, tell me about your contact," Dib said from the upstairs bedroom.

"Remember when I said for you to keep an open mind?" She raised her tone. "Now is that time. My contact is of another alien race. We both know who and what Zim is, I've been at him for a while now trying to bring him down." She heard the footsteps as Dib descended the stairs two by two after he heard the words: another alien race.

"Which one!? There's more than one!? Tell me more!" His eyes were wide, his chest beginning to heave against his blue shirt that he finally found. He reached her and grasped her by her shoulders.

She eyed his hands upon her shoulders before slipping into a comfortable smile. "Dib, there are tons of alien races out there, if you believe it so. We have Zim and his people, the Irken race. And then there's my contact, The Meekrob. The Meekrob are not terribly fond of the Irken empire, and so long as we establish a peace treaty of sorts, I'm certain they'll leave Earth alone."

"How do you know of this?" Dib asked, breathless. His eyes were dewy with bliss at hearing that there truly was life out there.

"There's proof all over. Doctor Smite seems to be an expert, his accounts of reaching contact tell me that he's encountered several with his flashing light method."

"I know his work," Dib said with a grin. "People thought we were crazy. They locked Dr. Smite up!"

"Sometimes this world just isn't fair, Dib," she said. She felt his hands tighten on her before loosening, releasing her as he approached the basket, now having found his appetite as he tore off a piece of bread and took a large bite from it. She quirked a brow, before settling into a smile. She found his quirkiness charming, at the very least of what she could consider it.

"Tak, I don't think you realize how happy this makes me. I haven't felt like this in a long time. They all thought I was absolutely crazy. I was starting to think even my own wife thinks I'm crazy. She enjoys fraternizing with the enemy. She has Zim at our table like it's nothing."

The more he began to prattle on, she absorbed certain clues. "It sounds like Zim is trying to gain her trust."

"It does, doesn't it? She says it's to keep the peace."

"Peace?"

"Zim's daughter is my niece."

"I didn't know Zim had offspring. Not that I care. But that would mean…" She paused. "I didn't think it was possible."

"Neither did I, but now she's here. And Amelia claims she's doing it so that the children have their cousin, which I won't deny them and she's a pleasant enough little girl. But, I don't like that he lingers here, and she allows it." The bread began to crumble in his hand as his hand balled into a fist.

"Your wife should be more supportive to your cause," Tak replied. "After all, isn't she on your side?"

"When we first met, she was."

Tak didn't like how it shifted from business to Dib complaining about his marriage. She would have to get this back on track if she wanted this to go right. Tak approached him and set her hands upon his shoulders, guiding him to the sofa. There was only one way to solve this issue, it was to let him vent until she found wiggle room.

"You need to sit and tell me everything. I'm a third party, I have no one to tell. Sometimes it helps to confide in a stranger."

"I don't feel I have much of a partnership with her anymore," Dib whispered as he was sat down. "God, is that terrible to say? I thought I'd be satisfied. I thought that this would help make my life more meaningful, worth living. I'm right back to feeling empty."

"It sounds like you're stressed. You love your wife, don't you?"

The reply was automatic, "Of course I love my wife." Even he heard it. It sounded mechanical. Tak gave him a look of disbelief as he bent his head down. This was down spiraling and fast. What made men happy? She rounded the corner and cautiously slid herself onto his lap, straddling his hips. Dib shot his head up, his initial bodily reaction to buck her off, but at the same time, wanted to buck inside of her.

His eyes trailed from their hips together, which seemed to fit nicely; there was something about that which he liked and continued to trail upward, the curve of her waist to her shapely heaving breasts through her gown. Slowly, he placed his hands to her hips, gently dragging her closer before he leaned forward. His mind struggled between pulling away and just going for it.

She was here. Tak believed in him, truly believed in him. There was no doubts to cross his mind it tried to rearrange his priorities. Two heads thought simultaneously and only one was going to win. Her youthful, hard body was refreshing, he painfully admitted. He wasn't going to begin comparing women, but he couldn't help what aroused him. Before he could stop himself, he was already motioning to kiss her. His lips made contact with hers.

Her eyes widened, never truly having been properly kissed in her life. And as much as she was an invader, here was this man invading her mouth with his own and he was conquering her. He was a challenge, and one that she liked. Truly, embedded with so much untapped potential. She leaned forward and returned his kiss, her hand resting to his cheek and drawing him further in.

He rose from the couch, now committing to this movement as he transported them from the living room towards the bedroom. His mind thought of nothing else right now. He was tired, and he was hungry. This was the missing factor that he needed and right now, that only she could provide. He looked at her hungrily from the moment he saw her back at City Hall and suppressed the urge with his responsibilities.

The only responsibility he desired at that moment was making her squeal.

When the two finished, Tak had felt things she one, didn't think she was allowed to feel and two, began streaming thoughts that were potentially dangerous. As much as she reasoned with herself to do this one time, she wanted more. Glancing to see the position of the moon, she determined when she should leave. It was high in the evening sky, as she should see from the wide bedroom window. She felt Dib's eyes on her before she shifted to leave the bed. His hand reached out to clutch her wrist softly.

"Stay the night?"

Tak, however, shook her head and continued to remove herself from the bed. She couldn't get attached. She shrugged her dress on, Dib threw his pants on to see her out the door. This would be a one-time thing, right?

She left in the dead of night, picking her pace up once she was out of view from Dib and gasped as she caught a figure that met her at the corner if Dib's block.

"Is the deed done?"

Tak crossed her arms over her chest. "If you truly must know? Yes, it's done."

The male stuffed his hands in his pockets, withdrawing a packet within a coin purse: herbs to prevent pregnancy. "Good. Then phase one is complete."

* * *

Dib wrote frequently to Amelia, perhaps out of guilt and maybe, also, to judge when she was to return home. Tak came over frequently where Dib decided to play house with this other woman. He washed the sheets every time she stopped by, so he could cleanly indulge in this sin in his marital bed. After several weeks, he stopped making it a daily ritual to cleanse the sheets. After Amelia informed him that she would remain until the summer's end.

Tak began to spend evenings over. One evening, after she had fallen asleep, he looked over his shoulder and to Tak. He knew what he was doing was wrong. His elbows dug into his thighs, thinking how this wronged Amelia on so many levels, however, he began to grow attached to Tak. He indulged in the newness she brought about, her demeanor was the adverse of Amelia's. Was it possible to love two women at the same time? She blanketed the complex feelings he had towards his wife. One of the relationships would have to end, though, for how much longer could he keep it up?

* * *

After a month and a half into his affair, Dib received a letter that dropped in his mail slot. He quirked a brow, as this envelope looking nothing like his wife's stationary. It didn't look like Zim's, either. He took precaution to study and see if he familiarized it with anyone he knew. Picking up the letter opener, he withdrew the paper from its casing and read the contents inside:

"Dear Sir,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I feel the need to reach out to you because it appears that you are under intimate acquaintance with my wife, a one, Tak Reynolds. Now that I have your undivided attention, let's discuss retribution for this wrong that has been so committed on behalf of myself and your Mrs. Membrane. I desire a monetary compensation. If you do so comply, then you may continue to see my whore wife. Otherwise, I tell Mrs. Membrane. And because I know you well, I don't see that being a desirable option. And no, Zim knows nothing about this.

All the best,

Madge Reynolds."

Dib froze as he read with whom the letter was written by. Madge? She was "married" to Madge? Was she aware that Madge was an alien? Then it dawned on him like a ray of like breaking through the clouds. Although, he swore to himself. How did he not see this coming? His suspicions arose of her being one of them.

Just as Dib was torn in his thoughts, he heard Tak's familiar knock. "It's open," he said, voice cracked and disturbed.

She opened the door and entered to find Dib with the letter in his hands. "What's wrong? Who is that from?"

"Don't act innocent. I can't believe I didn't see this," he whispered. "You're…one of them?" He asked as he turned his head towards her. Her face dropped. That confirmed all he suspected. "Your "husband"? Madge is your husband? Mate? Whatever!"

"Dib, there's no need to shout," she said, holding her hands up in defense. "Just allow me to explain!"

"How could you extort me like this?"

She saw the pain in his eyes, having an inkling that he was more upset at the extortion than her being Irken. She needed to know.

"What are you more upset about right now?"

"About being betrayed," he said. "I should have known you were Irken. No human woman acts like that in bed and lasts that long." He walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink, pouring the whiskey from the decanter and into a glass. He took a heavy swig, glancing back in the hallway where Tak still stood. She appeared so helpless, uncertain of what to do or how to react. If this was solely about extortion, she would have done something clever as she had in the beginning.

He returned with his drink and did the unthinkable. He offered her some. "I want to see," Dib said softly. "Show me your Irken form."

Her head snapped up in shock. "Wh-what?"

"I think I deserve that much," he said flatly. When she refused the drink, he returned it back to his range and took another swig.

Tak hesitated. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. Exposing herself as a naked and pretend human woman was one thing. She was quite proud of the body she had created. It was a whole other to expose herself as an Irken female. The slap of his feet against the hardwood floor caused her to slowly look up to meet his gaze as he gestured to upstairs, closing the front door and locking it.

She followed him, feeling her heart pound against her chest with rising anxiety. Was this simply out of hurt? Did Dib have intention of hurting her? Either way, she was preparing to defend herself. If Dib hadn't realized it by now, she could easily kill him if she wanted two with simply two fingers. Entering the bedroom, Dib again closed the door behind the two of them. He sat down at the edge of the bed, extending an arm for her to present herself.

She hadn't realized that her arms were still wrapped around her. She complied because she trusted Dib on some level, their physical connection had grown on her and that was a danger in itself; she knew that all too well. She reached down into the slit of her dress, where she clicked a device similar to the one Madge had used to give he, Zim, and Skoodge their human covers. Her skin was a softer green than Zim's. Her eyes were a deep hue of purple and violet, with antennae that curled as thickly as her lashes. She didn't notice, but she was slightly trembling.

Dib stared at her intently, letting her shake for a moment before he stood up. He thought seeing her in her natural skin would have repulsed him enough to end this adventure he had embarked on with her. He set his drink on the floor before approaching her. However, seeing her this way only made him want her more. And it occurred to Dib that it wasn't the Irken race he despised, but Zim.

Tak didn't threaten Earth, she threatened wanting to exact her revenge on Zim. He personally had no problems with that. He curled his arm around her waist, drawing her to him. Her antennae bounced with the movements as her eyes never left his. Every ounce of him said he should have ended the affair when it began.

"Do you want this to end?" Dib asked, finding that he wanted her input.

Tak hesitated again. She should have been repulsed by humans. She found them ridiculous, horrendously ignorant and not worth her time. But Dib had a brain, he had ideas. He was less obnoxious than her counterparts home. If this ended, that's what she had to look forward to. She treaded dangerous ground, especially when she shook her head and replied,

"No."

"Then, no one has to know," Dib said against her lips before devouring them once more.


End file.
